Heirlooms
by Reevee21
Summary: When two brothers find a mysterious box up in their attic, they discover several odd toys. But not just any old playthings; self-aware characters capable of battle, adventure, and...humorous encounters. Will they be able to keep them intact? secret? amused? Story rated T for various references and dark themes.
1. Introduction

**Hello, people of—AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGH!  
(Crashing noises, cracking sound)  
ARCEUS! THERE AREN'T ANY STEPS OFF THIS PODIUM! I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING!  
*Five minutes later…*  
I'm okay, readers…just a broken rib…will someone put some stairs there?!  
Anyway, it's Reevee21, here with a new SSB fic since I am THE WORST at putting up new stuff!  
I was just thinking over the age-old let's-put-these-mysteries-in-the-game-for-fanfictions on SSB. Y'know,  
"Who's Master Hand really?"  
"How are they all statues and what-not?"  
"How was the World of Trophies created?"  
"And how did Crazy Hand come into play? Or Ike? Or Pit? Or any other newcomer, for that matter?!" Remember those? I do.  
Back in the olden days, when we weren't ranting about some Mary Sue fic taken down years ago or typical OC-into-SB stories (HEY! THAT'S A GREAT NAME FOR THEM! Someone make a note of that!).**

**So I put up this fic to write about Master and Crazy.  
Just Master and Crazy.  
Master and Crazy…  
Oh yea, and a few company impersonators…  
And the smashers…  
That makes like, fifty, but whatever. I did not break a rib to lecture you guys on about this. PRESENTING, ****_Heirlooms!_**

* * *

**/*\****_ Heirlooms _****/*\**

**A SSB Fanfiction by Reevee21  
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SSB. All rights go to their respective owners, including the genius who created this beautiful game in the first place.**

**/*\****_ Introduction _****/*\**

_Forty years ago…_

The soft rocking of the boat was gentle and hypnotizing; if not for the clinking of the metal lamps and creaking of the wooden frame, he would have fallen asleep.

A warm cabin around him didn't help the drowsiness. The fluffed bed at the left side of the cabin longed for someone to sleep in it, the huge, north-facing window showing the night sky in a vain effort to get him to sleep.

But he stayed, sitting at the desk in front of it, surveying his finds.

All the treasures were in a wooden crate about two feet tall, obtained through trading of gold and silver with the carvers of the jungle village they had visited. He was sorting through them now—would this go better as a house decoration or in the showcase? For sale or for keep?

He had a few piles going now. One, on his upper left, was a pile of smaller trinkets better fit for pocket charms. He flicked a stray star with two oval, black eyes back into it.

Another, below it, was a collection of larger characters. They looked plenty fine to the naked eye but they didn't have quite the spark, the memory, the…livelihood as the last one.

The last pile, centered on the right, had exactly twelve figures in it. A fearsome gorilla, a fox-captain, a float-y puffball, a warrior, a red plumber, a sparky mouse, a robotic suit, a friendly dinosaur, a driver, a singer, a green plumber, and a young physic.

Most would look oddly at his idea that they might be something more than figures. He could just tell it; they had a reason to their existence and a story to tell. He couldn't get it out of them yet.

Deciding what to do, he gently shuffled the first two piles back into the crate and slid the lid closed. Separating the twelve, he looked them over closer.

They did not respond.

He observed them more, taking note of key features, trying to shape something of a personality for each.

He could remember a few key notes about each, bringing those memories to mind as he picked up the yellow mouse by its small, yellow-furred scruff and placed it gently in his other palm. It was nice in the way they all fit so perfectly; even the largest could be tucked into his hand.

Back to the mouse. He could see that it had a lightning-suggesting tail and brown stripes on its chubby back. Red cheeks dotted its face below plain, obvious eyes. He lifted it by the tail, the rest of the body dangling limply, in an effort to look for some sort of logo or trademark. After searching along it, he saw it; a small circle with a smaller circle along its halfway line.

Curious, he set the mouse down and reached for the gorilla instead. Its brown fur stopped at the skin, a few stubborn hairs going further. It didn't bother the very palm of the foot, and he saw a different symbol; a D and K right next to each other.

He could only remember going to one trader for these twelve. Surely he would use a single marking…?

Checking each one, he saw that only a few had the same symbol—the two plumbers shared a mushroom cap sign, mouse and spherical fluff ball both having the odd circle.

As he was setting the physic down, he noticed the red plumber had vanished. The man panicked slightly—that was the most expensive one!

Was he right about this 'spark' idea after all? Had this figure left to cause him harm?

He looked over the table and shifted through the crate's valuables before finally kneeling down and finding it on the floor.

He breathed in relief before mentally scolding himself. Now that he found it, he remembered that it was rather close to the edge earlier. And what if it had broken on the way down?

Disappointment hit him as he realized the spark idea was a goose chase after all.

Collecting the twelve, he set them inside a separate box. This one was of polished wood, with his family's symbol on the front side. It was entrusted to him to be filled with precious objects.

Its duty was fulfilled as the lid locked and it was placed cautiously back upon the shelf. Looking out the ocean cabin, the man saw that it was very late indeed.

The rocking eased him into sleep, lamps unlit and creaking subsided with a few shoves on the wall.

But no one was there to hear the lid click against the wood. To hear the vain attempts of the last spark alive, to hear it fall silent as that spark of creativity died.

* * *

**Mm. Dramatic.  
I'll give extra nerd points to whoever can name all of the first SSB roster without looking!  
Thanks for reading, everybody! Be sure to leave a review, follow, and favorite on your way out! Hug your Eevee, everybody, I'll see you on the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter One: A Gift

**/*\ ****_Chapter One: A Gift _****/*\**

_Forty years later; start of 64 era_

"Go on, open it!"

"I'm a bit afraid to, with you asking me so much."

"I promise, I didn't put anything in it this time," the boy pleaded. He was fourteen years old, light black hair ruffled up into its usual, tufted mess. His face was bright and colorful with excitement, dark hazel eyes brimming with impatience. He wore a wrinkled, red shirt with a few scars of past stains still on it and a pair of not-so-dressy, gray pants.

The other teen looked at him with disbelief. He looked older than the other boy, even though they were both the same age. His hair was better-combed, but still defiantly ruffled in a black, furry top. A dark gray, plaid vest covered his green tee whilst black pants spoke their non-caring attitude to the outfit. His face was calmer than the other, masking excitement of what might be in the box.

The box was found in the attic, wrapped in paper, and given to him as a late gift by his brother. The receiver had it in his hands, a box of dark wood with a symbol carved in the top: a circle with two lines crossing in the bottom left corner. A bronze latch, dirty with age, held the box shut.

Finally giving into his brother's pleas, he set the box down on the dining table and flipped open the latch.

Nothing jumped out at him; that was a new one.

Now beyond curious, the boy leaned over to look at the contents. "It's a bunch of toys," he hummed.

"I was thinking you could make a game out of them or something!" the other boy piped, arms crossed.

"So you DID look in the box!" the other accused.

The first gained the expression of a deer in the headlight. "Well, I, uh, I had to make sure it wasn't, you know, tobacco or spices or cigars some other trade thing! "He stammered. "It came from the jungle areas, you know, and I didn't wanna have you doing drugs or what-not—"

"I forgive you, Cress," the second laughed, snapping the box shut and running to the stairs.

Cress brightened and ran after him; after all, Marco only ran upstairs when he was making a game.

When he said 'making a game', he meant creating some version or other of role-play for their younger siblings. Two sisters, to be exact. Not only did the game keep them busy and out of their way, it was apparently fun for Marc to go about, plotting details, writing huge personalities for the smallest of characters, the whole nine yards.

The house echoed their footsteps plainly, as if saying "I know you're running, you know it too, why do I need to tell you?" The empty ceilings called back the clattering of feet anyway.

Their home was a white and gray figure high nestled comfortably in the suburbs of the city. It had two floors, three counting the attic. You would enter on the bottom right side of the room, into an entryway with an office to your right and fancy dinning room to your left. In front of you would be a living room, the upper left corner of the floor being a kitchen, and the stairs stuck between them.

Marco rushed to the second floor via steps near the center of the living room, to the far right corner, through a door and into the empty room. His face mirrored exhilaration; these were the first new things he had in forever!

The room in front of him had ten-foot-high walls, painted blue with clouds pattered near eight feet. From then-onwards was the stars and made-up galaxies that were always so fun to dab on walls. There was even a projector to turn the entire room into a star-studded blanket of black and violet. Seeing as it was on, he flipped it off; however much he loved the night sky, all games started in day.

A few tables were set up here and there, scattered with stuffed animals. His personal desk was at the very back, an intricately painted, rectangular bench.

The first layer of its paint coats, slightly raised, was a rainbow of veins weaved around in a circular shape. Two, gray branches lead off each other to the ends of the table, like a sidewalk going through a plaza. The second layer was an orange web leading off the circle, fading to black with hints of green halfway to the edge. The last was a concrete-designed ring of blue around them all, appearing to be made of puzzle pieces.

Marco slid into the chair, its armrests bumping against the table and knocking over a few pencils. Their lead tips trailed a silver scrawl on the drawing paper nearby, faint notes of their previous presence.

He straightened them back into a cup holder, set the box on the table, and flicked open the lid once more.

By the time Cress had gotten into the room after his hand slipped on the doorknob and sent him sprawling on the floor, Marco had the toys all set up in a lineup. Like a police officer looking through a lineup, he studied them carefully.

"Where did you even find these?" he asked, taking a bipedal reptilian into his palm and looking it closer.

"In the attic," Cress answered, beaming. "It came from our great-great-uncle—the one who went to the Amazon, remember? Mom said he traded metals for them."

"Then why were they in the attic? They look good enough to be on display!" Marco protested, setting the dinosaur down in a standing position. Its legs flopped over uselessly, rubber boots squeaking on the wooden desk as they split and left the owner in a somewhat cute, tilted posture.

"I dunno," Cress answered, staring off into space, "I think he was…actually, I never asked. Maybe he got shipwrecked on the way back?"

"He would have left a note or something," Marco dismissed.

"Okay then," Cress shrugged. "Whaddya gonna do with them?"

"I'm not sure—yet," he added quickly, getting back up. "Are you sure there weren't ANY notes?"

"If there were, they would be in the box," Cress figured, snatching the supposedly empty box and shaking it upside-down. Sure enough, a small note fluttered out, previously sealed to the bottom.

Marco picked it up, flicking off the wax seal so it landed in front of the objects. Cress started giggling madly all of a sudden, Marco looking at him oddly through the corner of his eye. "What's so funny?"

"If you look at it the right way, those toys look like they're going to destroy that seal…"

Marco glanced over, noticing that the toys did all seem to be positioned around the seal. He chuckled a bit at the thought of murdering wax seals before finally unfolding the note and reading it over. His gaze turned confused at the end, brown eyes flirting about the paper once more.

"What's wrong?" Cress asked.

"They came from an Amazonian toymaker," Marco explained, facing the toys once more, "but it doesn't say anything about who he was. How did he stitch the cloth—what kind of cloth is that?"

"Hmm…looks like felt," Cress answered, staring down the green warrior. "All the limbs are stitched on, but you can barely notice it on him…"

"Link."

"What?"

"Link. His name is Link," Marco repeated.

"Who told you?" Cress asked.

"This paper," he answered, "it's got their names and a little 'backstory', if you can call it that. Link's apparently from some country named 'Hyrule', bearer of…a triforce of…courage?" he said, squinting at the lines. "It's in the worst manuscript, goes on about a master sword and fairies—I think."

"Fairies? Fairies," Cress repeated disbelievingly. "Sounds kind of lame…is that the only one?"

Marco flipped the page around before pointing at a short man with a black moustache and trousers. "That's Mario of the mushroom kingdom, a plumber apparently, tasked with saving a 'Princess Peach' when a 'Bowser' kidnaps her."

"Okay, a little better—"

"Then there's Luigi, his brother," Marco continued without a beat, turning his index to a similar character—except taller, with a green hat. "Also a plumber, though a bit of a chicken. There's more, but it's all smudged up. Also, Samus—"

He gestured to a figure clad in an orange and yellow robotic suit with a green visor.

"Fox McCloud."

Both gazes turned to an anthropomorphic fox with a piolet's uniform and holstered blaster.

"Donkey Kong."

To a brown-furred gorilla wearing a red tie with the initials 'DK' stitched in yellow.

"Yoshi."

To the saddled dinosaur Marco had picked up earlier.

"Captain Falcon."

To a muscular figure in a purple bodysuit, yellow scarf draped around his neck and a red helmet shielding his eyes.

"Ness."

To a youthful boy in a yellow-blue striped shirt, denim shorts, and red baseball cap with a baseball bat hanging near his side.

"Kirby."

To a small, pink toy shaped like a ball with two stubby arms and two long, red feet.

"Pikachu."

To a yellow, rodent creature with two brown stripes and bright red cheeks.

"And Jigglypuff."

To another pink figure, this one with smaller feet and large, blue eyes.

Marco folded the paper again, lifting the seal from its stare-down and pressing it on a side instead of the edge. His eyes were shining with inspiration as he looked them over once more—better informed, better inspired.

"Now that we've gone and done a whole introduction…are you going to make a game now?" Cress questioned, curiosity seeped into his voice.

At first, Marco didn't answer. When he opened his mouth to do so, a door shutting downstairs called their attention. "Mark, Cressy, we're home!"

"It's Cress!" said boy shouted back through the hall.

"Not yet," Marco finally answered, "I need a bit of time to...sort my thoughts. Besides, it'll be no fun if Freya and Caitlyn watch me!"

With that response, he placed the parchment back in the box and ran downstairs to greet the sisters. Cress sighed in defeat, turning to the toys. "You guys hang in there…"

He reached down with a fingertip outstretched, gently brushing the top of the gorilla's—Donkey Kong, he reminded himself—head.

He recoiled instantly, with a shout, electricity jutting through his hand. That couldn't have been static, could it? It seemed to powerful.

"Cress?! You alright?!" someone shouted from downstairs

"I-I'm fine!" he lied, clutching his left hand—his writing hand, he noted sadly. Now his homework would look all scribbly! "Just some…static! I'll be right there!"

Shooting the toy a confused, accusing glare, he ran out and shut the door.

The room stayed silent for long moments. Finally, as the last rays of the setting sun clawed long, orange lines in the room and shadows along the wall, a figure shifted.

The casted shadow on the floor-a dark, stretched image of Link-lifted an arm, seemingly trying to grasp the sun's light. If you were looking at the table, you would see the felt figure had turned to face the sun, arm stretched high. His blue eyes were narrowed at the light, the now-metal sword and shield reflecting the light back in blue and silver rays.

Another joined him: Mario.

A third joined them.

A forth.

A fifth.

Before long, all twelve of the once-toys were reaching arms and forelegs towards the light, enjoying the warmth of sunlight for the first time in forty years. Their shadows, twelve united figures plastered on the floor, eventually mixed with those of the walls and tables.

Link put his arm down, now parallel along the horizon. He sighed deeply, reaching up and stretching his limbs.

"It feels good to be in open air," someone else noted through a robotic voice.

"You're not even in open air," another corrected.

"…it's the thought that counts," it stated.

"Pi-kaaaa-chu!" yet another laughed, shaking itself.

"What-a luck," an Italian accent noted at the group, "Were-a all here!"

"Do you think it was the kids?" another new voice asked. "That one—Marcus, was it?—seemed pretty creative to me."

"It was that Chris guy who got the idea of looking in the box," the robot protested.

"Whatever, Samus," it waved away. "Whaddya say we check out this place?"

* * *

**SO BASICALLY Smash brudders!**

**I lost the original Author's Note, at the beginning and otherwise, so I guess you'll just need to handle me, my backup comedy, and a list of explanations I'll serve up for ya so you don't get all confused.**** And this might be a little fun for me, because I don't get to write rules a lot...**

**FIRST: Yes, I'm going to be doing all the official installations of the Super Smash Brothers series. This means the original Super Smash Bros, Super Smash Bros Melee, Super Smash Bros Brawl, Super Smash Bros 3DS, and Super Smash Bros Wii U. (That list has the largest amount of the words "Super Smash Bros" I've ever written. My fingers hurt.)**

**SECOND: No, I probably won't be doing color swap characters.** **By this, I mean characters like Alph, the Koopalings, and the male Wii Fit Trainer probably won't make an incredibly dominant appearance. It's not like I don't like them or anything - as you should know, _I LOVE EVERYTHING_ \- it's just that I'm managing the smashers (over 45 and counting), the villains (Tabuu and all his problems), the guys who made the smashers and the villains (video game companies), and a pair of hands. I CANNOT TAKE ANY MORE _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH THE PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN -_**

**THIRD: Please prepare yourself for the fourth explanation.**

**FOURTH: It is incredibly likely that I will be novelizing other games like I will be novelizing the Super Smash Brothers series. ****By that, I mean that it's incredibly likely a Kingdom Hearts novelization will show up. One peppered through and through with various Disney titles, a sprinkle of Pixar, and a chick who commands the following: people who the _world end with, _an _alchemist_ made almost_ fully_ of _metal_, some _final fantasies_ a dark (_black_, even) _butler_, and _eaters_ of _souls_. **

**...are you still there? Hello? Did I loose - oh crud, the audience fainted! ARGH! Alright, I'm gonna need about five ambulances, a repairman for the few that ran through walls screaming, and my lawyer for the medical bills that are going to arise from this...I didn't even get to tell them that it might be showing up around December...*sigh*. Woe is the author and her problems.**


	3. Chapter Two: Smashers

**AHEM, (unrolls scroll of reviews)...wow...only three got the idea? And they're all guests?**

**Yes, PikaLoverNYA, it's good to have nerd points.**

**And these points go to, drumroll pleeeeaaase...  
Anonymous (guest),  
Nana (guest),  
and The Reader (guest)!**

**For those of you wondering about who Freya and Caitlyn are, they are meant to be two Nintendo-associated companies: Game Freak (or GAME FREAK for us Pokefreaks) and Creatures, inc.**

**..Oh, don't worry about it; we can't all be perfect! Now be sure to enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Two: Smashers _****/*\**

Marco awoke the next morning to the gentle knocking of raindrops on his window. The sky was dreary and blotted with clouds, the occasional rumble of thunder calling.

He slid out of the sheets and got dressed uneventfully, stepping out to a waking house. Cress walked by him, muttered some primitive version of "good morning", and almost ended up walking into the wall. He took note that Cress' left hand was still bandaged from whatever shock he had—it didn't take many study skills to tell it was more than a static shock that burned him.

It was seven fifteen, exactly ten minutes until the bus arrived, so Marco ran back to the playroom to check if his gifts were still there—paranormal, he knew, but he had plenty of time to look anyway.

The playroom was as gray as the skies, though slightly brighter with the huge window. But when he looked over at the desk, the toys were gone.

"…hey, Cress?!" Marco yelled down the hall. "You didn't do anything with those figures, did you?!" It seemed unjust to call them 'toys' at this point.

"Why would I?!" Cress yelled back from the kitchen. "Last I checked, they were still there!"

"Well they aren't now!" Marco shouted.

"What?"

"They're gone! Only the box is here!"

Cress jogged upstairs to him, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "What?!" he asked disbelievingly. "Did someone steal them?!"

"Freya, did you come in here last night?" Marco called down the hall to said sister. Freya was just then stepping out of her bedroom, woken up by all the noise.

"No, did Caitlyn?" she asked back. Freya was eight years old, her short hair blue-gray in color. Her normal outfit consisted of a silver-blue shirt and denim jeans, a spiral clip pinning back her bangs. Right now, though, she was still red-eyed with sleep and in a wrinkled mess of pajamas.

"I didn't!" Caitlyn answered, startling them all. Caitlyn was Freya's twin, with the same blue-gray hair—albeit in a longer, straighter form. She wore a light blue tank top and black pants with strange, white designs embroidered into the right leg.

"Did a stranger break into the house?!" Cress panicked. "Those were from the AMAZON, for crying out loud!"

"Hey, calm down!" Marco argued. "The windows are intact, there's no other way in here, they were not stolen. Maybe some other…force…moved them."

"What, like an earthquake?"

"I think we would have felt it, Cress…"

"C'mon, let's just get breakfast," Freya groaned, trudging downstairs. "We can worry about them later."

"Alright then," Marco sighed, stealing one last glance into the room before shutting the door hesitantly.

"How 'bout a pop tart to perk you up?" Caitlyn asked, hurrying him along. "Mom said we could eat them on Mondays, remember?"

"How would you FORGET?!" Cress sighed. But, with two of the strawberry-flavor-stuffed pastries in his mouth, it sounded something more like "ow woul yu OGE?!"

"FREYA, CRESS IS SPEAKING POP TART AGAIN!" Marcus moaned.

"He said 'How would you forget?!'" Freya translated boredly. "seriously? I'm the only one who understands that?"

"Yep," Caitlyn and Marco said at once.

Cress rolled his eyes, took a large bite out of one pop tart, and kidnapped his bag. Making way with both bounties of edibility and knowledge, he propped open the door just long enough for the other three to leave.

The bus's hinges squeaked back as they boarded, heading off through the mild drizzle.

Long after they were gone, a small figure darted out from behind the door. It scurried quickly to behind a table leg, four feet padding softly on the wooden floor. It plopped down and let out a deep breath, relieved not to have been seen.

But yet, he was rather curious to where they all went…

The curiosity outbid his caution in the control-of-direction auction and made him run back to the door, only to be sourly disappointed as the gap was too small for him to squeeze under.

So he looked up instead. The shining metal thing of…dark magic that let the door swing back was waaaaaaaaay high up. So high, he was laying on his back to see it.

"Pikachu, what are you doing…?"

**/*\**

Cress was waiting as patiently as he could, but it seemed like the bell had disappeared as well as the figures.

The English teacher droned on about 'prose' and 'poetry' and 'blah bla blah bla blah' (at least, that's what the last part sounded like), not giving so much as a look to the bored class.

On the brink of falling asleep, the flutter of a paper airplane brought him back to life. He unfolded it and read the enclosed note, signed with an 'S.' as always. He looked to the row closest to the wall, focusing on the third chair; sure enough, there was the boy himself.

Sage was fifteen years old, wearing his signature-styled denim jacket and sweatpants—the ones with two stripes down the sides, he noted. The teen pressed his palm to his forehead and dragged it slowly downwards, flattening his dark blue hair once again.

Before Cress could send a paper airplane—crudely folded but (most likely) capable of flight—back to him, the bell finally decided to make an appearance and startled whatever class wasn't waiting for it.

Marco, relieved, unhooked his backpack from the back of the chair and slung it around his arm halfway through the door. The thought of those missing figures (again, too cool to be considered toys) had been biting at the edge of his mind all that day—by now, it was a full-blown flurry of concern.

He had a pretty good idea of their stories now, twenty-four hours after reading the note originally. That was why he made such games in the first place; for stories later on. Freya and Caitlyn would puppeteer the characters whichever way they wanted, helping out in the character-variation department, as well as coming up with odd-ended adventures or sparking referenced conversation.

On one such occasion, Freya had been playing with a large hand puppet—one that led halfway up her arm and designed as a green serpent—when Caitlyn strolled in with another. Freya's was supposedly territorial, thus, their monster battles were born. It was an odd system of health points, power points, 'type' advantages and disadvantages, not to mention the various 'techniques' they had made up specifically for each toy.

Such moves could be as simply-named as 'Water Gun' or 'Copycat'. Others could have detailed, meaningful names such as 'Shadow Sneak' or 'Perish Song'.

"Hey, earth to Marco?! Come in, Marco!"

"Whu—OW!" Marco hissed, slamming the locker door into his face. He turned around to face Cress and Sage looking at him oddly.

"You were uttering stuff again," Cress deadpanned.

"How did I get the locker open in the first place…? Wait, what am I doing?" he asked dully.

"Okay…uttering stuff…being drawn out of la-la-land painfully…questioning life…okay, all that's left is back to reality!" Sage declared, scribbling something on a notepad.

"You make notes of my behavior?" Marco asked.

"Yup," Sage answered, not looking up from writing.

"Face it, bro…you do this daily," Cress said, smiling nervously.

**/*\**

"Where the heck are they?" Marco grumbled angrily.

The setting sun was the backdrop against this age-old scene, titled 'Looking for the Stuff Lost since This Morning'. In it, he was the main character, the figures were the victims, and it was about to close into 'I'll Give Up and Look Tomorrow'.

He wasn't about to let the audience down, though, and kept filtering through the stuff on/under/around/nowhere near the desk.

"Can I help yet? It sounds like some cool stuff!" Caitlyn asked from the doorway.

Marco, while coming up from under his desk, smacked his head painfully on the edge and shouted something vauge in response.

"Does that mean yes?" she asked, stepping in cautiously while he rose and massaged the sore spot on his head.

On her way over, something glinted at the corner of her view and something went running on the fringe of her hearing. She turned to booths' source, a lower table pushed to the far right corner of the room. All she caught that moved was the shadow of a small, tailed creature.

Hoping they didn't have mice, the girl lifted the rudely-shoved piece of scrap paper over the glinting object: a flat piece of metal about half a pointer finger long.

"Oh!" she gasped softly, picking it up as gently as she dared. It wasn't flat, she realized; it was slightly curved inward. The piece was thick enough to withstand a lot of pressure-pressing ways she could think of, though it would be hard to; one side was a sterling silver while the other had a jet-blue color. The silver rim went into the blue at square knob-designs in a pattern while a gold triangle was emblazed near the top. An orange-red, outstretched tribal bird was directly center with another, smaller triangle beneath it.

"I meant no," Marco finally answered after he could speak, ushering her out without seeing the metal. Wanting a little secret of her own, Caitlyn tucked it into her pocket swiftly.

"I'll show you when I have it figured out," he promised, closing the door. "Or if I figure it out," he added softly to himself.

He took status of the room around him now. It was usually clean in the first place, without a game to fill it, but since there wasn't one at the time…it looked like a hurricane had hit it.

"Ughhh…great. They aren't anywhere in here," he sighed.

Grabbing a dustpan hanging by the door, he started to clean—thoughts and room, that is.

The possibilities were very limited to what could have happened to them. The window was shut tight and had been all night, ruling out a break-in or animal crawling in and taking them. Not a chip of glass was in sight, either, if a robbery had commenced and the criminals miraculously replaced the window in time.

"Besides, most of the valuables are still here," he hummed to himself, putting a threesome of what the girls affectionately called 'the legendary dogs' back on a table. One, a pristine blue with two ivory whips extending from it; another, a yellow-furred creature barred with tiger stripes and a purple swath of fur down its back; the third, coated with shaggy, brown fur and white back spikes. And, true to their nickname, all were bipedal and very dog-like.

There might have been a chance that their mother or father had found the chest and bounty, united them again, and sent them off to storage. But they hadn't a clue about what he was asking about when Marco had asked them at dinner, unless they happened to be good liars—which they probably weren't…then again, would he know if they were?

The thought made his head dizzy for a bit—up to the point that he saw a yellow, furred creature run by.

…wait a minute…

"Pikachu?" he asked cautiously. When nothing happened, he stepped back enough to hang the dustpan up again. When it was secured, he darted back to it and peered into the pile of scrap paper it had run into. Kneeling down, he flattened his head next to it.

"Pikachu, was that you? You're alive?" he whispered into it—feeling ridiculously like a kid but doing it anyway.

It didn't respond—well, obviously, it was a toy for crying out loud!

But…toys didn't move, he knew that as a fact. But if they could, if these individuals could, that would explain how they moved away. He knew Pikachu and Jigglypuff would look for cover like the animals they were, but the more human smashers…might have wanted to explore, to check out dangers.

Or even find some fun. Maybe they were all just plain bored.

When he thought that last line, something shifted inside the dark of it. He backed up, not wanting to scare Pikachu back into its hole. Nothing came out, though, so he tried thinking of methods to get it to.

Pikachu was listed as the electric mouse Pokémon in the list; it would probably act, think, and speak like a mouse. But the electric factor made it far more dangerous than a mouse; it could generate varying levels of energy and be struck by lightning bolts without a flinch.

With that in mind, it occurred to him that gloves might be usefull in this situation—

"Why are you getting started on THAT thought? If ya wanna tame a Pikachu, you ought to use some grub."

"What? Who's there?" he gasped, looking around wildly.

"Eh, he'll like your creativity, though," the voice, male with something of an accent to it, "and all that knowledge on Pikachu won't hurt."

"…which one of you is talking? I know it's gotta be you guys, unless I've gone crazy," he said.

"Leave craziness to the other guy. It's me, Fox."

And a certain pilot strolled into view, wearing a defined smirk on his muzzle as he looked up at the gaping Marco.

* * *

**FOX WHAT ARE YOU DOING. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU HE MIGHT KILL YOU. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.**

**Bonus nerd points to whoever guesses Sage! I'll hint: It's another game-company-inspired character!**

**Aaaaaand I leave you on a cliffhanger because I'm a horrible person. I am, however, a good author and will put up the next chapter as soon as its done!**

**Be sure to follow and favorite during that time, leave a review of your thoughts on the way out, and love on those Eevee! Don't forget about the Mr. Saturn, either! …hug a Pikachu for the heck of it! Make like pinkdogtags and SPREAD THE LOVE! I'll see you next chapter! BYE!**


	4. Chapter Three: Gloves

**And, this chapter's bonus nerd points go to, DRUMROLL PLEAAASE...  
Zetra Emblem-'sup, girlfriend?-,  
Anonamoose (guest),  
MissQuestions,  
and PikaLoverNYA (I LOVE THIS GUY!)!**

**...Oh, what's bonus nerd points? Just a little guessing-game I thought up. Now, ONWARD WITH THE CHAPTER!**

**/*\ ****_Chapter 3: Gloves _****/*\**

Forecast predicted dust showers and previously unknown horrors for poor Cress.

The teen was messing around in the attic, looking for more of the odd toys. He hadn't really been looking for anything in particular when he was up here yesterday, just some random, interesting object to give Marco.

It seemed like an ordinary chest at first. He picked the lock with a stray paperclip, discarded both tools, and peeked it open to lay eyes on them. They were the most interesting thing he had found up here…and the only thing.

The attic ladder was in the hall, folded up and hidden away in the trap door like a lot of typical attics. Inside was a sprawling maze of boxes, plastic containers, and the occasional crate from their grandfather. Right now, he was looking for said crates, but it was kind of hard when everything was dust-colored.

His whitish hair was tinted brown with the flecks he was stirring up now. He sneezed loudly as just a pinch too many got into his nose, stirring up more and, in turn, coloring him more light brown.

"I'm gonna need a shower after this," he summarized. "But first, to find those crates…"

Finally, planks caught his eye amongst flat-out cardboard. "There you are!" he exclaimed softly, shoving the box over to get to it.

Something cracked from inside of it as it hit the floor.

"…whoops," he shrugged nonchalantly. It wasn't like it was important, anyway. In the attic, nothing really was.

…except the figures.

"Crabapple!" Cress hissed, skidding to the box (earning him plenty of bonus splinters) and flinging it open. Luckily, it was only an oil lamp they used in major power outages.

He returned to the crate. It went halfway up his chest in height, large enough to fit Freya and Caitlyn with room to spare. What could be in it, thought? Seeing as it bore no bright red 'DANGER' symbols, he tried prying it open.

The only reward he got, however, was more splinters.

"Hmm…I don't think we have a crowbar in here…" he hummed. "Then again, I didn't know we had awesome-looking toys in here, either, so…aha!" he exclaimed, looking proudly at the corner where an old broom reclined.

He ran to it, snatched it out of its spot, and rushed back to the crate. Wedging the smooth end of the handle into the small gap he had created in between crate and lid, Cress mounted the box.

"Alright, you can do this, you can do this," he mumbled to himself, staring down the broom. After a moment's more of hesitation and motivation, he slid his right foot onto the broom.

The lid creaked, the broomstick lowered, but the crate did not open. Would physics allow him another go?

Ever so cautiously, he inched his foot from the tip of the lid to the broom—

CRACK! WUMP!

"AIOW!"

…stick.

"Ow, ow, ow, OWOWOWOWOW!" Cress whimpered, on top of the broomstick. Nothing was broken, luckily, besides the tip of the broom and—

The crate lid. The lid had been swung open from the force of a fourteen-year-old on a broom, banged into the wall, and sunk to the floor; exposing the valuables inside.

"…huh…" he grunted.

Inside the crate were several smaller boxes, some like the first chest—despite size difference. Experimentally, he opened one.

**/*\**

"You're…you're alive…?"

"Yea, we are. Disappearing from desks kinda proves that fact, doesn't it?" Fox grunted, a little peeved.

Marco sat with his legs folded to his sides, hands in his lap, looking curiously at the _alive_ toy. His eyes were wide and his face was pale with shock, but he confirmed to himself that it was not a dream and that Fox McCloud was standing in front of him.

"But how?" he asked him. "I thought you were just felt, stitching, cotton, and—"

"Backstory? Well, personally, I don't really get it in all, either. And I'M the one involved!" Fox chuckled. "But I really should say 'we'. We don't know."

"We? You mean Mario and Link and—and Pikachu," Marco stated, "and yourself… and everyone I got…is alive."

"Short answer, yes."

"And you stayed in the attic for forty-some years? Wow," he whistled.

"Meh, it wasn't all that bad," Fox shrugged, "we were inactive. I guess the sunlight or somethin' woke us up."

"…that…is…awesome," Marco gaped. "The coming-back-alive part, I mean."

Pikachu, aroused as to what was going on outside, stuck a nose out and smelled the air. A blink later, the little mouse was sitting on his haunches right in front of him. It cocked its head at him, blinked a few times, and scratched an ear.

"Hey, he trusts you!" Fox exclaimed, seeing Pikachu's relaxed posture.

"Hey there, Pikachu," Marco whispered, extending a hand to him. It hesitated and scooted backwards a few paw steps. But when he withdrew, Pikachu eagerly jumped onto his knee.

"Oh yea, what were you talking about earlier? 'Loud thoughts' or something, what's that about?" he asked, sitting back.

"Us smashers have a way with hearing thoughts," Fox answered. "You see, when you were talking yourself over in your head about electric mice or something, Pikachu was interested. But when you go on about your own safety, he thought you were thinking of him as a pest or something."

"I see," Marco hummed. It would have been hurtful to Pikachu, even worse considering that he was a mouse-like creature. It might have not even known what a glove was, maybe thought it was some sort of trap-system or something…

Pikachu nuzzled into his pant leg and uttered something of its language.

"So you're telepathic?"

"Heck, no!" Fox growled. "I can't even imagine how annoying it would be, listening to everybody's thoughts all the time. I mean, really. We just kinda pick up on the subject. So now you're thinking, somewhat vaguely, 'holy crabapple there's a fox talking to me what the heck am I asleep what is going on'. Again, vague translation."

"I'd say that's pretty spot-on," a new voice spoke. It sounded automated and single-toned, like a robot.

"Hey, Samus," Marco greeted as the robotic-clad bounty hunter walked on scene. His screen lit up when he was active and the joints screeched a little when he moved.

"Fox, I thought we agreed to stay hidden," Samus deadpanned. "Remember the last guy we revealed ourselves to?"

"But HE hasn't passed out—"

"Yet."

"You're not helping, Marco."

"Gentlemen, please," Samus sighed—at least it was said like a sigh, "Let's not get our claws out on the second night now. No pun intended."

"Are you sure, Samus?" Marco chuckled. "At least we know what the fox says now, right?"

"Yes, he obviously speaks the terms of recklessness," Samus scolded. "What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that we needed some excitement around here!" Fox shouted. "And he saw Pikachu first!"

"Pika? Pika pi chu Pikachu!" Pikachu squeaked, pulling up a loose fold of pant leg in a shield mock.

"Does anyone know what he said?" Marco blinked.

"Oh yea, the list said nothing on Pokespeak. No one but Jigglypuff knows what Pikachu says—and she speaks a different language, too," Samus answered.

"Okay then," he shrugged, reaching out to pet the mouse.

"Don't."

"Hm?"

"'Thousand volt shocks'? You don't pay attention much, do ya?" Fox grumbled.

"I thought he had that under control? Like, it was stored in the cheeks and released on command or something!" Marco defended.

"It's what happened to the last guy. You need something to be tranquilized, contact that mouse," Fox stated.

"Pikachu pi cha pika Pikachu!" Pikachu whimpered again.

"I don't need to be Jigglypuff to tell he doesn't want to be involved," Samus argued. "Fox, you should have stayed hidden!"

"But he was going to find him anyway!" Fox shouted back. "Why can't we get someone to understand?! Why do we need to stay in that ol' box for another four decades?!"

"That is not our choice!" Samus answered. "We don't get a say in this since we left that shop! We are owned property!"

"Well I certainly don't enjoy it! It's not our fault we were purchased for a few licks of silver and a fistful of gold coins!" Fox yelled. "We can do that again! In fact, you're helping by showing up yourself!"

"At least I can take him out!" Samus shouted. "You're unarmed! You left your gun at the desk leg and came out in the open when he could easily crush you with a foot!"

"And what kind of welcome would that be, coming out armed and ready to fire?!"

Pikachu and Marco glanced back and forth between the arguing two, left helpless to interrupt. Pikachu couldn't speak to either and Marco would most likely make it worse—or get shot. He didn't really want to, anyway; the toy's history was unraveling in front of his eyes.

Luckily, neither of them had to.

"ENOOOUUGH!"

A firewall ignited between the two, lit by a blaze too fast to be seen. It cut them short from the argument-Fox muttering something angrily to Samus after a bit. "Great. Now we're all in trouble."

"Where the heck did that—Oh geeze, its fire!" Marco yelped, grabbing the closest object to him—an old paper fan previously lost on the mess—and batted it out. The fire went out nicely, but now a line-shaped scorch mark would be emblazed into the floor.

"It doesn't matter now-a," the Italian accent continued.

Out of the near-approaching shadows emerged Mario, a few stray embers still dancing out of his palm. He let the hand sag to his side as the plumber approached, looking strangely calm.

"I'm-a not sure what crazy thought got-a into your head, Fox, but it was not-a safe one-a," he continued, obvious to the gaping Marco. If any were paying attention to his thoughts, the subject had shifted to 'dang, he can break up a fight easy'.

"It was gonna happen, anyway," Fox sniffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Samus, you could-a have gotten one-a of us," he continued. "And threatening Marco wasn't-a gonna help."

"I was not threatening," Samus growled, "I was stating the obvious."

Mario rolled his eyes before turning to Marco at last. "And now-a he's involved."

"Personally, I still think I'm hallucinating," said boy admitted, rubbing the back of his hair, "but…I guess it's beyond that, at this point."

"Yup," Fox and Samus stated simultaneously.

"Pika," Pikachu shrugged.

"And I think this means we can walk about normally know," Fox said, shooting Samus a smirk. "I had it completely under control."

"Yup," Marco grunted.

"Then I guess-a it all does work out-a," Mario blinked. "Hum."

Suddenly, the door opened. Everyone turned to see Cress walking in, looking down at two limp, white things in his hand.

"Hey Marco? Why are you talking to yourself? Anyway, I found some stuff in the closet you might wanna take a looooooooo…." He trailed off, seeing the smashers before/on Marco.

"…I can explain everything!" Marco said quickly, Pikachu jumping off a split-second before he stood up.

Cress, however, stood where he was.

"…Cress?" Marco asked cautiously.

"…my gosh," Cress muttered, slumping to the floor in a dead faint.

"Great, Fox, you broke him!" Samus moaned, throwing his hand and arm cannon into the air.

"No, I think he's just fainted," Marco hummed, kneeling in front of him before the white things caught his attention. "Hey, what are these?"

"Gloves, what do they look like?" Fox answered as Marco took them from Cress. The boy held both, two white gloves with a bit of a cuff on each. They seemed brand-new, probably fabric…

…or maybe…

Slipping the right one over his hand, he extended it to Pikachu once more. Pikachu cowered back for a moment but didn't move otherwise, instead letting itself be stroked with a fingertip.

"Yea," Marco grinned, "I have a feeling things will go along just fine."

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—Nope.**

**See, I told you guys I was a good author! I felt like I was slacking on style with Samus and Fox's argument, though, but it worked out, didn't it? Maybe I'll go back and change it later.**

**…****and I don't have any nerd points for you, sorry…I mean, if you wanna point out the fact that Samus isn't a guy, that's fine, it's just that THEY don't know that. You know? Age-old "Samus is a girl?!" response?**

**Be sure to review, follow and favorite! I'll have the next chapter up soon, so just keep lovin' them Eevee till then! I'll see you next chapter! **


	5. Chapter Four: Mice and Men

**/*\ ****_Chapter 4: Mice and Men _****/*\**

"…MORNING, MARCO!"

"IGIDENDOET!" Marco shouted right back, rolling off the bed.

"Well, SOMEONE seems clumsy this morning!" Cress smirked.

Marco flipped a pillow off his head and glared daggers at his brother for the rude awakening. The night's memory was still fresh in his mind; Mario had tried coaxing the others to meet him, but it ended up fruitless—they had all vanished at once. Cress eventually woke up and nearly passed out again after sighting Pikachu sniffing his nose, was introduced to the night club, and promptly joined. Then they had gotten on the topic of food, which meant that he just _absolutely had to_ run downstairs for them to taste 'tardy pops'.

Apparently they had agreed on sleep after a while, for he was back in his room.

Cress was sitting on the end of his bed, crouched like a kitten on a spot too small for it. "Ready for another day? Say, did you have the same crazy dream I had last night? 'Cuz there is ABSOLUTELY NO WAY that was real!"

"I dunno, we'd need to check," Marco muttered, dragging the mangled sheets back over him.

Cress promptly yanked them off with a dramatic flair. "Its seven-fifteeeen," he sing-songed.

"It's a Saturday," the brother growled, exposed to the elements of morning chill.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's tues-daaaaay!" Cress continued, spinning on a foot. The sheets got him tangled, however, and he went down as Marco shot up.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER?!" he gasped, rushing to the closet.

"Mhm shd nt tw!" Cress answered through a mouthful of sheet. He rolled the opposite way he had spun to detangle the cloth hampering him, seeing that Marco had rushed out the door.

"I'm late, I'm late!" he yelled, panicked.

"Shut up, you sound like that rabbit from Alice!" Freida ordered.

"It doesn't flicking matter, I slept in too late!" he continued, wolfing down a bowl of cereal.

Cress, tromping downstairs proudly, was spun again as Marco ran back upstairs—and steadied before being kidnapped to the playroom by his hand.

"Ugh, finally!" he moaned. "I've wanted to check all morning—"

"Someone'll hear you and think we've got a rat or something in there," Marco said under his breath.

BANG!

"MORNIN, GUYS!"

WHACK!

"NESS!" Mario gasped. The plumber was standing right next to the door, on the opposite side from the hinges—it had missed him by a hair. He ran across the room as fast as he could, to the slumped form of the toy that had been not as lucky.

"Cress," Marco growled.

"How was I supposed to know someone was there?" he answered, stepping over Fox to get to the victim.

"Ugh…it was all brown…and then it was black and…and I saw a white light," Ness murmured. His baseball bat was held tightly in his right hand, signature hat cocked on its side next to him.

"Ness, how many fingers am I holding up?" Mario asked, lifting two fingers in front of his face.

"Um…uuuum…one—no, four!" Ness answered, black eyes wide.

"It's two," Fox stated dryly, crouched next to him.

"Wait, really?" he asked, obvious to it. Seeing Marco and Cress, he suddenly gasped, "oh my gosh! I think the giants have come for me!"

"…Is he always like this?" Marco asked.

"No, only when he gets KNOCKED SENSELESS BY A GIANT DOOR," a new voice yelled. Cress looked guiltily behind himself to see three other new faces approach: Captain Falcon-the one who had spoken, a shield-less Link, and a worried Kirby.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Cress groaned, sitting down. "So maybe we need to work on a few things!"

"Like 'don't knock Earthbound characters senseless before eight A.M.'?" Marco suggested, walking to the door and pushing it shut gently.

"How does he know my series…what…why am I seeing Starfys…?" Ness continued to hallucinate.

Mario turned to the new arrivals and Fox. "Do we have anything for concussions?"

"I didn't know we could GET concussions," Samus said.

"Maybe he's in some form of the 'confuse' status?" Captain Falcon suggested.

Link shrugged.

"In that case, he'll shake it off. Falcon, Link, Kirby, this is Marco and Cress," Mario introduced.

"Nice to meet you all," Marco nodded.

"'Sup?" Cress asked casually.

"Poyo!" Kirby answered, pointing to the ceiling.

"What'd he say?" Marco blinked.

"Yea, Kirby speaks…Kirbish? Did we agree on that?" Fox asked, looking to the others. "And Link's a mute."

Link grunted, crossing his arms.

"He's not a mute and you know that," Samus said, poking Fox in the chest. His now-equipped blaster jangled in its spot on his belt.

"It's easier than saying _speech disabled," _Fox snorted.

"Hey, hey I think it's wearing off!" Ness said, shakily getting to his feet. "…no it's not. I still see giants."

"And that's Ness. Ness, meet Marco and Cress," Samus explained.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA, that rhymed," Cress laughed. Marco sighed.

"Heya!" Ness shouted up at them. "Did one of you open the door?"

"Err, that was me," Cress admitted sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No hard feelings," Ness shrugged. "Okay, there was a hard door, but no hard feelings."

"I say you got pretty lucky," Samus noted. "You could have been flat-out squashed by it, or into something more painful-like, saaaaaay, that sword prop over there."

"Or have gotten your spine broken," Captain Falcon added.

"We don't have spines," Ness stated.

"The saying rubbed off on me somewhere," the pilot shrugged.

"So, this is all of you, then?" Marco asked.

"No, there's the four others," he answered, shaking his head. "Yoshi's off exploring that closet with DK and Jigglypuff. Luigi…I have no idea where Luigi went."

"After that door scene, I'd be surprised if he DOES come out," Fox snorted.

"I said I was sorry!" Cress argued. "Why were you walking _around_ the door anyway? You couldn't have just crossed further out?!"

"It was because of THAT THING!" Ness declared, pointing accusingly to the scrap paper pile on the floor Pikachu had been hiding in last night. It looked just as it had the other night, albeit the hole leading inside being shuffled to a larger entry.

"The paper…?" Marco trailed.

"What's INSIDE the paper," Captain Falcon deadpanned.

Cress, undaunted, crawled to the paper collection and brushed the top of. He exclaimed something as a brown, furry creature ran out towards the figures. Marco sighted it was an actual mouse, scared to death with a large splinter of wood sticking out of its side.

He had exactly two seconds to figure out what it was before another piece was shot into its snout, making the mouse squeak in pain. Marco spared a glance at the source: Link, who had produced a bow out of thin air and was loading another arrow.

He fired it, hitting the mouse in the hind leg and causing a small spurt of blood to appear on its fur.

By then, the mouse had made it to them and proceeded to barrel Fox over while the others jumped back. It was a mess of different pelts before the mouse finally emerged, holding Fox in its teeth by the scruff of his jacket.

"Fox!" half of them exclaimed.

"HEY!" Fox shouted at its captor, who blinked at them in response.

"No you don't—AH!" Ness exclaimed as he was batted away. The mouse took off with Fox to its hole, quickly vanishing inside before anyone could attack again. Samus and Link had their weapons ready to fire (Marco taking note that Samus charged a blue ball of electricity to fire), but gave up after losing sight of both in the hole.

"Now what?" Mario growled. "We can't just leave him in there!"

"I'M not going in," Ness squinted. "I can't see a thing!"

"None of us are going in, that's for sure," Captain Falcon said quickly. "We'll find some other way."

"That mouse must have been stirred up when you were rampaging last night," Samus summarized.

"Excuse me?" Marco asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Did you s_ee _the room?" Samus stated right back.

"…Alright," Marco sighed, raising his hands in defense and standing up, "since it's apparently MY fault, I'll get him out."

"How?" Cress called after him as he strutted to the desk.

Marco took the right-hand glove Cress had assigned him that night and slipped it on, double-checking it was on tight. He felt confident in the fabric being tough enough for the job, and if not—he could always wash it.

Armed and ready, he returned to the group and peered into the hole. The somewhat-helpful morning light let him peer in a little ways, but not much farther—just as Ness had said.

Sudden shouts and various cursing from the hole politely reminded them that a character was about to be eaten alive by mice, and Marco cut right to the chase; he stuck his hand into the hole and felt around for Fox. While he was doing this, several small blasting sounds were barely heard. Certainly luck Fox had his blaster, then…

"Well…it turns with the wall…I think I can feel an incline in the roof here," he narrated while feeling around.

"Darn mice…be climbin' out yo holes in the walls…snatchin yo people up…" Cress grumbled, ready to give them a piece of his mind.

"Is Fox technically a person?" Ness asked.

"No idea," Samus drawled.

"I GOT HIM!"

"Bring him up, then!" Mario shouted excitably, cocking his head to look down the hole as well.

Marco detangled his arm from the system and pulled Fox out of the hole victoriously, revealing him to be covered in rodent bites with patches of fur missing. His coat was also torn up, from being dragged back through a literal rodent hole, and his blaster was smoking slightly.

"Fox? Fox!" Marco shouted, shifting his fingers a little. "Fox, if you died in there, so help me gosh—"

Fox sneezed on a bit of dust to interrupt, coughed a few more bits up, and opened his eyes blearily at him. He shot a small smirk at him, rasping, "not…my…greatest moment…"

"Marco! Cress!" Freya shouted from downstairs. "The bus is here! Come on, you'll be late!"

"Take him with us," Cress ordered. "We can't have him attacked by rodents again."

"We can't afford to keep FOX in the school, he'll give us off!" Marco argued.

"Not if he's unconscious," Cress cleared his throat in Fox's direction, seeing how he had gone limp.

"Fine," Marco moaned, taking off the glove with Fox still on it and wrapping the fingers around his unconscious form. "We'll see you guys later," he added to the others.

"Wait! What—"

The door cut off Ness again as it was slammed shut, stampeding footsteps signaling that they had left. "What about us…?" Ness trailed, glancing at the hole with unease.

**Yes, I know it's been a while. Yes, I know I'm updating at two-thirty in the morning. Yes, I know I need more sleep-*falls onto keyboard* SNAAAAAAAARRRFFF…**

**Marth: Err, Reevee? The rest of the author's note?**

**SNAA—I'M AWAKE! *Jolts up*. I'M AWAKE. I AM SUCH A NIGHT OWL. Be sure to review, follow, and favorite, guys! And, if you're up at two thirty four in the morning, *grabs shirt* TELL ME YOUR SECREEEEETT!**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to whoever got the Starfy hallucination Ness was blabbering about!**

**Hug you're Eevee, guys, I'll see you next-*Falls onto keyboard again* snaaaaaarf…**

**Marth: *Facepalm***


	6. Chapter Five: Sparks and Stories

**Before I begin this, EXTRA-SPECIAL thanks to Smashking24 for the extra-long review! Sorry about the little brother thing, that was supposed to be edited out, but it slipped past me!**

**Enjoy the extra-long chapter I made for you guys!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter 5: Sparks and Stories _****/*\**

It was the sudden knock to the side that finally woke him up.

Fox had been in blissful unconsciousness, dreaming on about one of his many adventures with the rest of Star Fox, when some deity or other had seemingly kicked the side of his…wherever he was at the moment. Now he found himself on his side, several white strips over him while he was sprawled on a large, flat object.

Someone yelped something from the outside (he was inside something, apparently) and the whole place shifted back so that he was no longer on the flat object but below it—and it was tilting.

Instincts, self-defense tactics, and common sense caused the pilot to raise his hands in an X and summon a half-globe of some kind of glassy, red material—the common smasher's shield. Others had more complicated shields (Ness bragged he could pull up an entire dome) or even actual shields, but he just had the standard shield.

The flat objects—stone, perhaps?—fell over him but knocked back against the shield, making his vision fuzz out but giving him time to crouch into the slanted tent they formed.

The fight-or-flight response died off in his mind as he shifted into a more comfortable posture. He felt around the floor and walls of his place, smelled the air, looked about the darkness, looking for anything that could give a clue as to where he was. The results he came up with was that the walls felt beaded and slightly fuzzy, whilst the floor held the traction of rubber. It smelled of paper and stiff air, some kind of fruit's scent was in there too if he squinted.

He listened again to the outside world. A woman's voice was droning on, though he couldn't make out the words through the walls and the odd tablet-things. Occasionally she would pause and soft scratching would take her place. It wasn't an earsplitting sort of sound, more like quick, rapid strokes in lines or corners or the occasional circle. Some scratching didn't stop if her voice returned, but would pause and move on in muffled silence with long, gentle movements.

Fox couldn't tell how long he was in there, listening to the described noises while he pondered and crouched. The thought of the mouse attack surfaced after a while and he outwardly shuddered at the experience, but was left hanging as to what had happened after he was dragged out. Did Marco leave him there? Or did he take him to this odd place? Did he take them all? What about the mice?

All of a sudden, a loud ring made its way through the muffler of the tablets and walls, causing Fox to yelp and cover his ears. No one seemed to notice him, but it was mainly because there were all sorts of other noises going on again; rubber squeaking, books closing, pencils clattering, a door opening, and—

The entire area lurched upward, all at once, thumping the tablets against the side and making himself fall back into the while cloth he first found himself in. He inched back from it and gave it a more curious look before he focused on holding to something during the rhythmic jostling he was trapped in.

He eventually found a loose, thick string poking out of the wall and grabbed it. It didn't budge under his weight, so he took hold with both hands before he was knocked against the tablets.

A familiar voice made its way from the outside. It sounded like Cress.

"Hey, is Fox alright?"

"He didn't make a sound the entire time, even when the bag fell over, so I'm not sure," another voice, much closer, answered. Marco…?

"I thought I heard something when the bell rang. Oh, the group's getting away! SAGE, WAIT UP!" Cress shouted before apparently running off.

His ride jostled and sped up to keep up with him, and it was then that Fox came to the brilliant conclusion that he was in Marco's backpack.

**/*\**

Back at home, the four yet-to-be-met smashers were in quite the opposite environment.

Although it was the size of any other average hall closet, it was lined to the top with shelves—and those shelves, in turn, were almost overloaded with tubs of toys, piles of blankets, and boxes of any variety of connecting bricks or stacking planks. Sheets of word-heavy papers were stacked or simply left around the actual playthings, serving as notes for just about every game ever to have existed in the playroom itself.

A gorilla, the one with the red, initialed tie, had already mounted these shelves and was looking down from a third-story one. Three others were below; the pink ball of fluff with the big eyes, the dinosaur with a custom-made saddle, and the green-clad plumber of Mario's family.

They had been in there since the morning of that day and were still toying with the various objects contained in the closet. The door was opened a small sliver, beckoning them back for when a door slamming and shouting was heard, but they happened to be riffling through the muffler blankets and hadn't heard a thing.

"What do you think they do with these?" the green plumber asked out of thought, leaning a wooden plank the size of a log onto its top. The thing balanced before finally tipping, the man jumping out of the way with a yelp as it almost crashed on him.

The dinosaur babbled something in its language, occupied with one of the small creatures the two girls of the house played with.

Suddenly, a mouse squeezed through the door's crack with a rodent squeak. It glanced around the dark closet briefly before making a break for a hole in the corner of the wall.

The round, pink monster hopped out of the way when it did, avoiding the blasts and arrows shot after it. Link also followed through the gap she caused, leapt into the air above the mouse, and stabbed his sword through its back with a war cry.

A sickly snap briefly played though the closet with the mouse's dying squeak before the creature slumped to the floor. Link stood up on its back, not one to gloat over a simple beast's defeat, and tried getting the sword back out again.

"W-what the?!" the plumber gasped. "Mario, what is this?"

"Luigi! There you are!" Mario noted from the door. "You already missed Marco and Cress, they had to take Fox with them when one of the mice nearly ate him…"

"Ate him?" Luigi gulped. "Is he alright?"

"He's alive, that's all we know," Ness answered, walking through the door just in time for Link to finally get the sword back out—the rebound causing him to fall down the carcass.

The gorilla chose that moment to land next to the mouse with a slight thud. He inched closer to it and prodded at its side curiously before turning to the two from outside.

"We decided upon taking out the mice so we don't run into a situation like that again," Mario explained. "But it's not going so well—"

"HEY!" Samus' irritated tone shouted from outside. "Are you helping or what!? I'm going down the hole!"

"What?! No!" Ness shouted back as the seven left the closet.

Samus was standing with his hands on his hips outside one of the holes, looking determined. Captain Falcon was busy chasing down a different individual as it cantered under the tables, Kirby having decided the "upwards" route was much better and floating from table to table. Pikachu had disappeared before the hunt began, little surprise—he was based off them!

"Samus, have you lost your mind? You could get eaten!" Luigi shivered.

The pink ball slid in front of the hole with tears in its eyes, silently pleading him not to leave.

"Jigglypuff, move over," Samus sighed. "I'm covered in metal, remember? They couldn't eat me even if they got past my blasts!"

Jigglypuff let out a long, dramatic sigh and did as Samus ordered, still asking for him to stay safe.

Samus took on his form resembling an orange and yellow ball of metal and rolled down the hole. He ended up hitting the inside of the wall when it happened and rolled the other way like a pinball, startling a mouse out of its path and up the hole.

He ended up on a continued roll until he hit another wall, uncurling before he went rolling again. He had to be on the outside wall; insulation was thick here and there wasn't any way forward.

The tunnel was a little larger than the vermin's bulk and a little shorter than his height, leading his pose to be of a slightly ducking form with the blaster out and ready to kill.

The first to enter his wrath was a mouse leaving its nest in the insulation; it was dispatched and the hole was fixed not because he happened to be a neat freak, but because the batch of hairless pups inside needed to be dealt with.

Then another was killed, and another, a fourth joining their spirits—it felt oddly like déjà vu, even if he couldn't remember doing a thing vaguely like running through tight corridors and taking out man-eating monsters.

But the more he doubted, the more he realized that the previous sentence had happened, in another time, in another place. It was the same as going into an infested area that others don't dare to travel for the sake of taking out the enemy…

Then he remembered:

The stories.

Back in the amazon, back before all this nonsense about trade started up, she could remember the craftsman's daughter who had spoken of her father's stories. Not just any stories, t_heir _stories, the ones of taking down evil for the sake of princesses or whatever else the craftsman had thought up of while he worked on them.

She had a love of each of them, and a story to match them. If Samus could recall, his was of a bounty hunter that traveled the galaxy in search of jobs to be done, being orphaned by a pirate of sorts titled as Ridley.

The girl was the most upset about them leaving, if not the only. It was for the sake of rare herbs needed to cure the village's illness, if she could remember. None of them saw how hard she waved after them, on the lone cliff that overlooked the sea, but they overheard one of the sailors saying so.

They, too, missed the girl. Being separated from her tore them emotionally, but seemed to weaken them physically; by sunset, he was too weak to stay conscious.

Was that girl still there? It had been quite a few years since they last met, even if it felt like yesterday. Maybe she wasn't even a young girl anymore.

Samus sighed to himself and continued stepping down the mouse hole, thoughts of Nintenna still in her head.

**/*\**

Marco was between relieved and startled out of his wits when a voice in his backpack muttered, "you could walk more carefully, ya know."

"Good to see you're up, Fox," he noted, flipping it around and unzipping the top to see the lupine crouched under his books. The end bell had just rang but he had been helping a girl gather her upset book pile, leaving him in a deserted hall. Cress had ran off to the front already where their parents were probably waiting, but he had a bit of time.

"I don't think anyone's around, if you prefer a shoulder mount," he offered, lifting Fox out with the glove under him.

"Beats a backpack, eh?" Fox humored, running up his sleeve and taking a spot on his left shoulder. "But seriously, who in their right mind throws a bag that hard? Jeez!"

Marco winced at the memory of him tossing the bag when it was the start of PE.

"Where are we, anyway?"

"School," Marco answered, slipping the bag strap over his opposite shoulder and strolling towards the exit doors. "Cress kept bugging me about you, but I didn't want the teachers freaking out about a living t—figure…"

"Huh," Fox noted, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, "I don't remember a school being this modern. Then again, I've been in an attic for some-odd years, so don't take my opinion."

"Hmm…our dad first put that box up there twenty years ago, when his brother—out uncle—was lost at sea. But I don't know where he got it in the first place, or why he never took you out in the first place," Marco explained.

"Twenty years?!" Fox yelped.

Marco winced again and lifted a hand to that ear. "My ear is right above your head, you know," he complained.

By then, they had made it to the doors. Marco shoved it open with his free hand, an autumn breeze causing Fox to dig whatever claws he had into his vest. A black mini-van was parked outside with the motor running, Freya shouting at him to catch up from it.

"Okay, Fox, do you mind hiding? Like I said, the adults will freak."

"No pro," Fox nodded curtly, sliding back down Marco's sleeve and taking a short leap into his left pocket.

"Marco, what are you doing!? Taking in the scenery?! Come on, let's _go!" _Freya continued to yell.

"Alright, alright, you don't need to yell!" Marco shouted back, taking his usual spot in the second row while Freya returned to the backseat.

As he was about to sit and she was backing up, her hand managed to come over his left pocket before Pox poked his snout out to see what the ruckus was for. This resulted in Freya swatting his nose, which she immediately recoiled from accidentally doing with an "Ouch!"

Fox let out a muffled yelp and glared at her. Freya, holding her hand, happened to glance up at him. Her eyes widened and she jumped into her seat's corner with a shriek.

"What?! What happened?!" Cress jumped, taking off an MP3 player and looking between both.

Freya looked in horror where Fox had been, Caitlyn raising her eyebrows.

"Did something happen, Freya?" their mother asked, poking her head over the seat.

Marco shot her a desperate glance, Cress mouthing a dozen pleads with his hands clasped and an _I promise we'll tell later!_

"Y-yea, I'm fine," Freya answered, sending a questioning glare at the boys, "just a lot of static electricity or something."

* * *

**THANK YOU, FREYA, FOR NOT RUINING MY FIC!**

**Sorry for the late update, everyone, life and my lack of motivation lead to a minor hiatus. CURSE YOU, MY LAZY BRAIN! Oh wait, it came up with the idea…NEVERMIND, BRAIN!**

**EXTRA...REEV POINTS for whoever can give their vague opinion on 1, why it hurt when Freya hit Fox, or 2, why she described it as "a lot of static electricity"! Hint: there are a few references to a "spark" in the introduction!**

**Thanks for reading! I'd love it if you hit that follow/favorite button, he hasn't been getting enough presses, and the review button is close behind!**

**And HUG DEM EEVEE, you know you want to! I'll see you next chapter!**


	7. Chapter Six: A Spark of Creativity

**Hey y'all, happy Saturday! Oh, ****I forgot to mention something last chapter! **

**SO, the way this fic is going, it LOOKS like it's just going to be about the N64 game so far. But believe me, I'm going to *grabs broom* EXPLAIN ALL THE SMASH BROTHERS GAMES! **

**Melee, Brawl, and the 3DS/Wii U versions will come after I'm done typing how they created the stages, inspired fighting, found items, etc. I'll make EVERY character show up and cameo a LOT of other companies that played a roll (Intelligent Systems, Namco, Capcom, Nintendo EAD, and Monolith Soft to name a few). And apparently there's a rumor going around that this would be like _Indian in the Cupboard_? I have no idea how that got started, but I'm not aiming for it to be that way. **

**...Yes, Zetra: There will be Zelda. You'll see how she shows up.**

**/*\ ****_Chapter 6: A Spark of Creativity _****/*\**

Freya had little clue over what had happened in the car, just that something sent a jolt of electricity up her poor hand and left it useless for writing homework. But she had seen a little fox's head poke out of Marco's pocket, which was both startling and confusing all at once. It had been glaring at her quite angrily while holding its bruised snout (which was most likely her doing).

It angered her more when Marco revealed they had him since yesterday.

"You mean you've been keeping a living, breathing fox toy for an entire day?!" Freya growled as they lead Caitlyn and her up the steps. Caitlyn seemed not to have a care in the world of what they were hiding behind their backs (or pockets, in afternoon's case), but was curious as to why Freya now had a wrapping over her hand.

"Shhh! Mom or dad will hear you!" Cress scolded quietly, eyes darting from side to side in case the two adults were near. It was right after dinner, both occupied with other tasks like paperwork or what-not, so the chance was slim.

When they first got home, Marco had darted upstairs like a flighty bird while concealing something with a white glove. She didn't see where, because her mother promptly led her to the bathroom for some sort of covering for her burned hand. Yes, _burned. _Whatever had sparked her hand sparked it well.

It was ironic, since in their game if one was shocked hard enough, paralyzing of the victim would be the case. They had come to that conclusion after seeing how a paralyzed man shivered if he tried to move, like electricity was running through him.

"Okay, so, before you meet them," Marco started, being cut off by Caitlyn.

"Them? There's more than one?" she perked.

"Oh, so more than one living things! Wow!" Freya ranted sarcastically.

"Err, twelve," Marco sighed. "Anyway, just…don't freak out, okay?"

"I'm not a freak-person, though I may shriek when necessary," Freya deadpanned.

Cress rolled his eyes and opened the door to the playroom (noticeably more cautiously than earlier that day). But instead of a tiny, living, breathing fox greeting them at the entrance…a rather large, very dead, corpse of a mouse did.

Caitlyn covered her mouth to hold in a scream, but a bit of the noise still slipped through her lips. Freya lifted her eyebrows, Marco made a questioning grunt, and Cress just plain gasped.

"SORRY! Sorry!" a male voice apologized quickly from the ground. "We're cleaning them up, I promise!"

"Capn', what the heck happened?!" Cress asked, turning to Captain Falcon. The racer was a few feet away, in the process of shoving a different body down a mouse hole. Samus and Mario continued the job while he walked over to them.

"What the heck what the heck WHAT THE HECK WHAT THE HECK—"Freya repeated worriedly as he came closer, backing sideways with Caitlyn into the corner. They eventually reached a table and pressed against its side, though a curious "Hm!" from it caused Caitlyn to turn.

There, standing on their refuge from the oddity, was Link. Of course, she didn't see him as "Link", just as a green warrior looking up curiously at them. She turned away from Captain Falcon—who was explaining to the two brothers why there were was a rodent massacre—and bent down to get at eye level with him.

"Hello…" she greeted quietly.

Link raised a hand in greeting.

"I suppose you're with them?" she continued softly, nudging an elbow in the direction of the other gathering toys-come-alive.

He nodded.

"Huh…you're a bit of a quiet fellow, you know," the girl noted. She cocked her head at him, and namely the empty spot on his back…

Link shrugged in response to the note. It wasn't the first time he had been called a quiet person; due to some circumstance during his creation, an element just hadn't come into play that allowed him to speak. He could shout well, and had a Hylian tone that carried well in battle, but wasn't able to communicate through any other way.

"Wait…" she trailed, reaching into her pocket, "do you happen to own this…?"

His shield was nestled gently into her palm and she offered it to him cautiously. She had kept it on her all day after forgetting about it in the first place, though it looked his size.

He nodded rapidly and approached, lifting the shield out of her hand and slinging it onto his back—back where it belonged.

"H-hey, Caitlyn! Come over here to make sure I'm not hallucinating!" Freya stammered from her spot, cross-legged on the floor.

"Want to join us?" Caitlyn offered Link.

He nodded but paused over her hand cautiously. He took out his shield instead and put it on her hand again, stepping onto it. She cocked an eye at the odd way of transportation, but didn't say anything as he sat like a kid on a sled and held the edge while she walked to the others.

The eleven others were in front of a relaxed Marco and Cress but cautious Freya, the twin taking a seat next to her and letting Link down.

"So…um…hi, I'm Freya," she greeted warily.

A chorus of various greetings (some being "Poyo!" or "Pika!") answered her back.

"And this would be Caitlyn," she continued in a less shut-in tone, gesturing to her sister.

Caitlyn waved with a small smile.

"They're our younger sisters," Marco explained. "I wouldn't have gotten them involved, but Fox did something to Freya's hand earlier—"

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" 'Fox' protested. "She _slapped _my face!"

"It was an accident!" Freya argued back.

"Doesn't matter, you all know each other, let's just move on!" Cress suggested.

"Fine," both Fox and Freya spat. It was quite obvious they weren't going to be in such good relations from that point onward, but who am I to say?

"What was that, anyway?" Freya continued. "It was like a jolt of electricity or something!"

"Must have been Fox's spark," Mario decreed.

"Spark?" Marco repeated. "As in, energy?"

"That works…how to I explain this…?" Mario trailed questionably.

Lucky for him, Samus came to the rescue. "Listen, you ever heard the term 'spark of imagination'?" she started.

"Somewhere," Cress shrugged, "probably kid's TV, but go on."

"That would be a good way to explain it, then," Samus continued. "We come alive through that kind of science, by a will of thought. If we get too far from our 'sparker', you could say, or they just don't have enough creativity to light a spark, we'd go back to our limp, useless forms."

"Which would be why you were unconscious in the attic for some-odd years," Marco noted.

"Yes. 'Course, you can't spark just anything; it's a certain kind of fabric or something that does it," Samus added.

"So, wait," Caitlyn spoke up at last, "if you were already far from your sparker, then how did you come back alive?"

All eyes/fingers went to Marco.

"…what, you think I did it?" he took the bait after a moment of awkward silence.

"Think about it, dude." Cress noted casually. "The way you were ranting about these guys, and how you had that look in your eye, I'd be surprised if it were anyone else!"

"Huh…" Marco trailed before gaining a pleased grin. "That's pretty cool."

"Like a SUPPA POWA!" Freya giggled.

"Meh, it's cool for you," Fox shrugged. The saga of Fox and Freya continues…

"Hey, Freya?" Caitlyn tapped her sister while she was still chortling. "Remember that our uncle had these?"

"Yes?" Freya answered patiently, looking up from her smile.

"He also gave us that cloth, remember?" she continued. "And we made something out of it, didn't we?"

Freya's eyes widened. "Oh! You think it could be the same material?" she gasped.

She shrugged.

"Are you guys talking about that one cat thing you stitched a while ago?" Cress asked.

"Mewtwo. His name is Mewtwo," Freya deadpanned. "The fabric was this pretty lavender-y color, so we couldn't resist!"

"Well, go get him, then!" Marco waved them off. The two hastily got up from their seats and ran to the door. Marco, meanwhile, took out the glove he had been refraining from. "I wonder if sparking's all that hard…."

**/*\**

Freya and Caitlyn were a mess of excited squeals and flailing limbs as they ran to their own bedroom for Mewtwo. They hadn't thought up much for him, just that he was a clone of another monster they put together and he looked much more intimidating.

They flung open the doors and wasted no time gazing, though the temptation was high. Two twin-sized beds were in both upper corners of the room, one with black sheets, the other with dark blue. But shelves and shelves on the walls showcased hundreds of different monsters, some large, some small, all different. They were scattered on the floor, too, as well as piled up on the twin's beds and dressers.

"Number one hundred-fifty, Freya!" Caitlyn giggled.

Freya carefully scanned her side of the shelves with a hand posed to strike until she encountered her prey: a humanoid, light purple-furred cat creature with a thick tail and three-numbered hands and feet. Its dark blue gaze was pointed firmly ahead, like a soldier waiting for orders. Perhaps, after Marco sparked it, it would be!

Her hand snatched up the small figure (just large enough for her fingertips to touch when wrapped around) and the twins clattered back down the hall.

"Freya, Caitlyn, is that you?!"

The two froze at the sound of their father's call. Freya tossed the toy to Caitlyn, who tucked it behind her back. "Yes, dad, we got a bit excited!" Freya shouted back, holding the excitement out of her voice.

"Could you come down here?" he asked, walking in view of the stairs. "I need to tell you something!"

"Alright!" Freya answered for them both as she cantered down the steps and stood erect before her father. Caitlyn followed suit, still hiding Mewtwo.

"Do you remember your cousin Harold?" he asked.

"Dearly," Caitlyn sighed in sweet memory. Harold was a preteen and personal ally of the girls for helping out with their monster-fights. He even came up with the name: Pokémon, for how they could always be carried in pocket but were vicious as beasts all the same.

"He's coming to stay for a while."

The sentence didn't register in either's brains for a moment. "What?" Freya blinked.

"Harold and his parents—your aunt and uncle—will be staying for a few days at our house," their father repeated. "They just called; there was an accident at the house and they can't live there for a few days."

"That's awesome!" Freya shrieked for the umpteenth time that night. Perhaps he could meet the toys, too? The way they took out mice made them sound fit for battle, and they were talking toys, anyway. Marco might have not allowed it, but she was sure they could convince him.

"Go tell your brothers, too—he'll be staying in Marco's room!" the parent called after them when the rushed back upstairs with renewed excitement.

They finally swung open the door to the playroom and shut it again, Mewtwo in their grasp.

"Hey guys, guess what?!" Freya bubbled excitably.

"What?" Cress asked.

"Harold's staying over!"

"_What?!" _Cress gasped.

"I said, Harold's staying over!" Freya shouted louder.

"WHAT?!" Cress yelled back.

"I SAID, HAROLD'S STAYING—oh forget it!" Freya groaned.

"NO SERIOUSLY, WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU FROM ALL THE SHOUTING!" Cress shouted, startling everyone.

"Well, here's Mewtwo," Caitlyn addressed, placing the creature in the center of the smashers. They stepped back from it at first, a little taken-off by the appearance, before Pikachu slinked to it and sniffed its foot.

"Huh," Marco noted, raising an eyebrow. "Why Mewtwo?"

"Well, we call it that because he was based off our other toy, Mew," she explained.

Marco slipped on his glove and stretched his fingers a bit. "Why 'it'?" he prodded. It took fuel to light a spark, after all.

"It's what we call a Legendary Pokémon, meaning there's only one of these—one of mew's clones, anyway. Only a few of the legendries have genders anyway, like these two we call—"

"Stay on topic, Caitlyn," Marco stated, trying to think up any more background for the clone. While he was at it, he tried working on a few poses for his hand that would light a spark. Snapping wasn't working, oddly enough.

"Oh, right," Caitlyn jolted. "Umm, he's a Psychic type, so he can use techniques like Shadow Ball and Psychic. Or he can use more physical attacks, like Tail Whip and Headbutt."

Marco stopped snapping as a thought came to him. If he was a psychic and a clone, did that mean it didn't feel too great about itself?

"There was this one guy, Giovanni, who wanted to make him the strongest Pokémon ever, but it failed because Mewtwo thought it was being tricked…"

He closed his eyes and tried for a cold, shut-in kind of personality. It didn't want to hurt anyone, apparently, perhaps less trustworthy as well.

"It only trusted a few people, and it's so smart that it can only be caught by a certain kind of Pokeball—the Master Ball, which can catch any Pokémon. Dusk Balls might also work—"

"Caitlyn, stay on topic," Cress noted absentmindedly, searching the toy for any kind of reaction.

Marco could clearly think up the character now, a lonely, hermit sort of personality. It would look over everything with a critical eye, not trust anyone without any great reason to, but rely on its own power and smarts to overcome others. No one took it or used it without it knowing, trained after its incident with Giovanni. Maybe it like fighting; maybe it wanted someone to consider a partner, one that was equal in strength and mind…

"Marco…look."

"Whu?" Marco murmured after Cress nudged him back to reality. His eyes widened when he saw the cat-like psychic glancing around at the other toys around it.

"Mm?" it hummed in questioning. "What's going on…who are all of you?"

* * *

**Mewtwo, I thought you were a psychic! Use your head and use your brain to figure out what they're thinking! …wait, what? GRRRR, NOW YOU'RE CONFUSING ME!**

**And what's this? A chapter within a week of the last update? WHAT IS THIS SORCERY, REEVEE? **

**BONUS NERD POINTS if you can pick out the reference to GAME FREAK Freya made, OR why I used Mewtwo as an example, OR when he has spoken before in-game, OR which company this "Harold" guy might be!**

**Thanks for reading the chapter, everybodyyy! Be sure to follow/favorite for more awesome action and character unveilings, leave a review for a possible mentioning! Nerd points aren't actually all that hard to earn!**

**Hug an Eevee, I'll see you next chapter!**


	8. Chapter 7: Who would win?

**AAAAAND, the bonus nerd points go to-DRUMROLL, PLEEEEASE...**

**Shrekus Christ (guest) and MissQuestions - The Amazing Nabu !**

**ALRIGHTY THEN, I'm half asleep and ready to post something before Wednesday, so here's Chapter Seven-OOO, ominous title!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Seven: "Who would win?" _****/*\**

An irritated groan stirred Mewtwo from his rest.

It lifted an eyelid, annoyed at the sound-an outcry mostly dulled by patience and ingenuity. It came from outside the door, and if he were curious enough to find out what it was, Mewtwo would need to pass the watchful eyes of the creatures along the shelves.

It sat up from his resting place (a bed his size the girls had dug up out of storage) and walked to the edge of the desk, the morning sun casting rays on his back. "Peculiar," it mumbled to itself—or to the other creatures, "it's all so peculiar. How am I the only one lucky enough to be alive? Out of all of you…"

It looked around once more at the other Pokémon, helpless and dead inside.

"…why me?"

It could distinctly remember coming alive, a great pulse of energy that woke him from a long hibernation. Then Mewtwo was there, in the center of twelve others, and in turn under the four kid's watchful gazes. The one that woke him, Marco, had an amazed gaze on his face. His brother, Cress, had an excited and somewhat jealous look. Caitlyn was beaming warmly at him, while Freya's jaw looked ready to hit the floor.

As for the twelve, they were excited and amused and slightly puzzled at his presence among them. The ones known as Pikachu and Jigglypuff had approached him first, like he was a long-lost kin of theirs. Then Fox had quizzed it a little, what its name was, where it came from, etc., and it had answered perfectly—though it knew not how it knew.

…wait, what?

Freya was snoring on its right and Caitlyn was snuggling a toy to its left, so it found no reason not to delve into that odd groan from earlier.

It took a small leap off the desk edge and caught himself in midair with psychic. It levitated gently to the ground and walked down the clear path before him, like a movie star walking the red carpet. A while later it reached the door, and extended a hand to reach the handle with Psychic.

Psychic was like a hand, an invisible hand in his mind that one could stretch across distances or wreath around himself. It gave no hint to what it was lifting but a pink tint (and the shrieking of the victim, if it was alive) and the object bending or floating to his will.

It could barely reach far enough to twist the handle, but managed so and pried the door open a pinch. Mewtwo could manually open it enough to fit through from there, emerging into a hallway with doors on one side and a rail on the other. Past the rail, it could hear glass plates hitting marble countertops lightly when they were set. A sizzling of boiling grease and the mouthwatering scent of cooking meat also echoed through the raptors.

Since the groan wasn't showing up again, it took a peek through the rail bars to find out what it was. A larger human, older than the kids from last night, was bustling about several appliances and a table in order to set something up. Contact would be unwise, as Mario had warned him last night, so Mewtwo gave no hint to being overhead.

A lash of electricity, sparking and sizzling, sounded from inside the playroom door—quickly followed with an outcry of "Watch it!" and "Sorry!". Mewtwo whipped around to face the room in alarm. He approached and opened the door via Psychic cautiously, seeing Marco leaning over his desk and focusing on something.

"Good…morning," Mewtwo trailed, entering the room.

"Mornin'," Samus greeted casually, polishing his arm cannon with a rag.

"What is going on? I heard a shout," Mewtwo asked.

"Marco's experimenting with magic…it's going…averagely," Samus answered carefully, glaring at the desk with unease.

Meanwhile, on the desk, Marco was focusing on condensing a spark in his gloved hand. Captain Falcon had been watching, but was currently behind a cup of pencils in case the spark lashed again.

"Just think," Marco sighed wistfully, smiling slightly when he managed to form a small sphere of electricity above his palm, "if I could perfect this, maybe I could put some kind of protection-spell on you guys so you won't be killed by mice or something!"

"Well, we already killed all the mice," Captain Falcon shrugged, "but I can think of a lotta things that are out for blood."

"What?" Marco asked, jerking upwards and disrupting the sphere into small, flickering sparks.

"Other animals, sharp objects, poisons, incautious young children," the driver listed off his fingers, "we've had experience."

The door, previously forgotten, was shoved open again when Cress walked in with a casual "'Sup, dude? What's with all the shouting?"

"Morning, Cress," Marco greeted, getting up from his seat. "I was just working on sparking again, then it hit Captain Falcon."

"_Hit _me?! That thing ATTACKED me!" Captain Falcon growled from the desk.

"Well DUH, you're covered in metal!" Cress huffed before regaining his sloppy grin. "Hey, if you can do creative stuff with your glove…can I do destructive stuff with mine?"

Marco thought it over for a minute before grinning mischeviously. "You could try…." He winked before looking serious again. "I have an idea that might help; do you think I can try sparking some kind of…barrier around the smashers?"

"What? Like a wall?" Cress asked before gasping. "Dude! I never thought you were that cold!"

"No, I mean like a protection spell or something," Marco quickly dismissed. "So they don't get 'killed' by mice or whatever else that's out there."

"And I could fight them?" Cress enticed, letting Pikachu hop into his glove from the desk. "Just for fun, not to rip them apart or anything."

"I don't see why not," Marco shrugged.

"There you are, Mewtwo!" Freya called from the doorway before noticing the two brothers. "Hey, you guys ready for breakfast? And Harold's gonna be here any minute! Could we show him these guys? OOO, would he pass out or scream?!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Marco backed up, knocking into the desk with his back in the process. "Hold on! We'll be down in a minute, I'll leave that choice to the smashers—"

"And he's totally gonna pass out," Cress added. "I know I did!"

"I'm betting on a scream," Freya shrugged.

"Hey, about that last one!" Mario called, scrambling onto Marco's desk. "Is this 'Harold' trustworthy?"

"Averagely," Marco shrugged. "He's a twelve-year-old cousin of ours. A cross between Cress and me; he's pretty idealistic, but enjoys a good fight now and then."

"Oh, you're a brawler?" Samus asked Cress.

"Just because I got into a fight one time," Cress sighed.

"You gave that guy a bloody nose," Marco rolled his eyes before turning back to Mario. Mario himself was in a philosopher position.

"I suppose we could let him in on us," he finally answered. "You teens seem to be pretty trustworthy, anyway."

"Hey, that's another thing," Freya conversed on their way down the steps, "why are all these movie and book characters teenagers? I've never seen ten-year-olds on screen!"

**/*\**

By the time the siblings reached the stairs, Caitlyn joining them halfway, they could hear their aunt's voice from the doorway. They looked on from behind the staircase, heads poking out in order of age, as the four adults conversed over sleeping arangements and the like.

"HEY GUYS WHAT'S SHAKIN'?!"

"AUGH!"

"OW!"

"OOF!"

A breathless wheeze from Caitlyn as Marco tripped in surprise, landing on the others in a rough pile. Cress blew the hair out of his face before looking up at the source of the shout, none other than a grinning Harold.

Harold was a bit shorter than the two glove-wielding brothers, sporting a head of hazel-brown hair parted down the center—three short, white streaks on the right side for some mysterious reason. He had a freckled face and a bit of a tan skin tone, though his current expression was an impish smile. His classic outfit, a yellow t-shirt bearing the scars of stains and pair of somewhat-torn, brown jeans.

"Harold!" Freya gasped happily when the siblings finally got back to their feet.

"In the flesh!" Harold nodded.

"It's been way to long, dude!" Cress greeted as the two preformed some variety of a handshake.

Marco shook his head with an amused chuckle. Their relatives were often located far, mainly because they had originally moved years ago. They were also commonly farmers or just plain residents of out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere, whilst their family of six lived in an average neighborhood. Even before the two twin sisters were born, Marco could distinctly remember fun gatherings with their cousins at holidays.

"And just wait 'till you see what the boys have!" Caitlyn sighed dreamily while Cress and Marco shared an alarmed look. "There are these toys, see, and—"

"AAAND, that must have been a long trip!" Cress smiled awkwardly while Marco clamped a hand over Caitlyn's mouth. "Hey, do you like bacon? Our mom made some this morning!"

"Yea, sure," Harold shrugged as they set off for breakfast. Marco stayed behind briefly with the two girls and muttered, "Not yet, alright? Maybe after dinner."

Caitlyn nodded and Freya shrugged.

Relieved that the secret was safe, Marco ran after the two while the girls swiftly followed. Besides, there was a lot of catching up to do; they could wait…hopefully.

**/*\**

The gentle wheezing of Kirby's breath while he snored adorably through the day was interrupted by shuffling outside the door. The drowsy puffball blinked awake, the last rays of sunlight sending warm waves through his back while he was slouched over in front of the window. His paddle feet were folded beneath him while his stubby arms were folded in front of him and being used as a pillow, so he got back up and looked about.

The others were going about their business in the room, some exploring, others training out of boredom. Currently, Fox and Samus were firing small blasts at established targets, said targets being paper tacked on the wall.

The noise behind the door got louder, though not too loud—it barely woke him up. Finally, the door was opened by an ecstatic Caitlyn as the kids entered the room—Marco and Cress keeping their hands on a third, unknown boy's eyes.

"Hey, gu—" Freya started before Caitlyn hushed her. This call alerted Fox as he turned his head away from the target, accidentally hitting Samus with his stray blast. His fabricated shoulder now had a circle burned into it, enraging him enough for him to stomp over to Fox and slap him upside the head.

"Alright, now what is it?" the boy asked. "Come on, guys, you said you had something here…"

"Oh, it's something alright…" Cress snickered.

"Just…don't freak on us, alright?" Marco pleaded.

"Yea yea, sure, now let me see!" he shouted softly.

The two boys let their hands drift from his eyes, and the first thing Harold saw was an intrigued Kirby that was floating in front of his face—mouth full of air and arms flapping like wings.

Harold's eyes widened in shock. "Th-th-there's…" he paused, breath taken by the living toy's reality. And by the stunned on his face, it wasn't going to return it anytime soon.

By then, Kirby had run out of air and started plummeting to the ground. Marco held his gloved hand out below the gob of puff, said fluffball landing with a tiny _thud—_a small, cartoonish star floated out from under it before disappearing into thin air.

"Harold? Hare?" Cress asked, leaning in front of his cousin. "Hare? ...Hare? You still with us, man? Do I get your stuff if you're dead?"

"OH MY GOSH WHOAAA!" Harold shrieked at last, jumping back a step. He was hushed by Freya, Mewtwo on shoulder and blankly staring at him. "You don't wanna wake up the parents!"

Harold paid little heed and continued looking around the room at the twelve assorted figures, stepping about a few steps to get closer or lean in. "You guys, this is awesome!" he chuckled lightly. "T-they're alive! How are they alive? What the heck are they, anyway? Fabricated skeletons?"

"S-slow down," Cress laughed a bit. "Jeesh, and I was the one who passed out!"

"How long have you had these?" he continued the question barrage, leaning over to look at Mario.

"Meh, maybe a week?" Freya shrugged. "I dunno; I was just introduced yesterday."

"Cress gave them to me first," Marco started as he plopped down on a low table. "They were limp and dead back then, like any other toy. Then I found this scroll in the box, and started ranting on about the backstories they had—like, Mario there is actually a plumber from Brooklyn!"

"Correct!" Mario perked, walking alongside Harold as he strolled to join Marco.

"They talk?" Harold asked, doing a double-take.

"Poyo!" Kirby confirmed.

"Then the next thing we know, they came to life and just started going about their ways. Well, then we had an incident with Fox and the house mice, then Freya and Caitlyn joined in, and that would lead up to you. Huh. Shorter story than I first thought."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been standing around in the first place!"

All attention was diverted to where Fox and Samus were bickering, one about his blemished armor, the other about the first standing in the way.

"You were the one who shot!" Samus accused. "Now I'm that much weaker because of your clumsiness!"

"So what?" Fox sniffed. "Nothing happens around here anyway, if anything, we'll die of old age. Good riddance of you first, too, Mr. don't-let-him-in-on-us!"

Samus visibly paused at the title before loading his cannon and aiming at Fox. "I will make you eat those words," he snarled behind the helm.

"Bring it," he hissed back.

"Hey, whoa!" Marco perked before things got ugly. "Let's not try to kill each other on the third day, please!"

They were too focused on each other to notice. Samus had a formadible ball of energy in front of his arm cannon by then, shooting it at Fox right as he pulled out his laser (the weapon that started the whole thing) and shot back at it.

The others turned away with cringes, expecting to hear fabric burning and dying screams, only to hear a short, rather pronounced sparking sound. They looked back to see Cress had flattened out in front of them, gloved hand in a gun posture. It was aimed at where the two energy sources _should _have collided, same as Samus and Fox's stunned gazes.

"…I worked out some destructive magic while you were eating," he explained, getting up and looking to the gaping others with a hopefull smile. "It's like negative and positive electricity or something—they each consume each other."

After a short pause, Marco sighed in relief. "Thank you, Cress," he said to his brother, "without that, I think we'd have only ten of these guys!"

Harold, meanwhile, was staring off into some unknown point in space.

"…Harold? Did we break you again? IT WASN'T ME!" Cress immediately piped.

"First off, I have one more reason to get back at you guys for not telling me magic—literal MAGIC—was involved," he started bluntly.

Yoshi giggled slightly at that, Samus and Fox taking the time to face away from each other in a grudge.

This next line that Harold uttered would set off the core of their game: the mainframe, the plot, everything the to-be-named entertainment would circle around was this creative, suggestive line spoken by a kid in a thinking mood. And it wasn't all that great of a line, one a grammar book would probably disapprove of. But we won't care, because this line was all it took to get the creative spirit, destructive spirit, and other various, helping spirits involved. The line was:

"If Samus and Fox were to get in a real fight, with energy balls and guns and whatever else you can use…who would win?"

No one knew what intelligence had been spoken right there, mainly because they themselves were pondering it themselves.

"Hmm…good question…" Marco thought outloud. "Samus has the advantage because of his armor-like suit, but Fox is quicker and a lot more flightly…gee, I don't know."

"Samus, obviously!" Freya huffed.

"Why Samus?" Caitlyn asked.

"'Cause he's a lot more awesome."

Fox growled under his breath. Again, a growing rivalry between the two!

"I…dun…no…" Cress finally uttered, looking dazed.

"…maybe…we could find out," Marco suggested with a gleeful smirk.

"What?" everyone in the room asked.

"We JUST BROKE THEM UP, do you want to get them brawling again?" Ness groaned.

"True, and we don't know Cress' limits yet," Luigi added, "he could tire out before we get halfway through!"

Link notably hummed in an agreeing tone. Caitlyn looked down to the warrior, sitting on her knee, and wondered if he ever _did_ speak.

"No, I don't mean right now—Samuuuuus, Fox, you should know better," Marco scolded before the two could fire at each other again. Samus discharged her power above her while Fox sheathed his gun with a 'hmph!'

Marco turned to the others with a light in his eyes. "I'd been working on that protection spell about half the night," he explained. "If I can use some kind of attack-delaying shield, they could fight and only tire, not die! The tension would weaken dramatically—plus, it might even be fun. Honing skills, finding whatever works and on who…it'd be like an arena or something!"

Another pensive pause.

"Well…some days, I have wanted to knock Donkey into oblivion," Mario shrugged. Donky Kong hooted agreeingly.

"We could find out which puffball is better!" Freya giggled, gesturing to Jigglypuff and Kirby.

"Samus and Fox would fine…eh…seventy-five percent of the time?" Ness thought before shrugging off thoughtfulness and putting Pride in its place. "And I could actually prove to you all how awesome a shield I have!"

"Suuuuuure, Ness," half the smashers groaned with an eye-roll.

Link looked to his sword, sheathed but ready to flip out at a moment's notice. He grinned manically.

"Alright, let's do it!" Harold summed, fist pumping into the air. "…tomorrow. I'm to tiered to do awesome stuff tonight."

"Like meeting living toys?"

"Yea…" a tiered yawn, "yea."

* * *

**AND THUS, THE STORY TRULY BEGIIIIIINS! AWESOMENESS, AWAY!**

**Let me just say, I've met a lot of people who have no clue where this story is going. True, it is confusing, so I guess I can't blame them…**

**Oh yea, almost forgot! BONUS NERD POINTS to whoever knows where Kirby's adorable sleeping pose came from, OR who can name Mario's actual, non-game origin...**

***Yawn*…it really is about 8:40 PM right now, I'm ready to join Harold and do awesome stuff in the morning…*Plops onto bed* SNAAAAAAAAAARRRRR…**

**Marth: *Coughs awkwardly***

***Jumps up* I'M AWAKE! Thanks again for reading, everybody! Be sure to click that follow/favorite button for more ****_smash_****ingly good stuff (BAD PUUUUN, I am so channeling my inner Pit right now), hug that Eevee like a true Eevee fan would, and I'll see you all next chapter! BYE FOR NOW!**

**…*****Plops onto bed again* SNAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR…**


	9. Chapter 8: Nintenna's Stories

**AAAAAAAND, the Bonus Nerd Points go to, DRUMROLLLLLLL...**

**The One Named Light****, ****PikaloverNYA****, and ****Shrekord Player ****(guest)!**

**EXTRA-BONUS NERD POINTS go to Ayako Zetra! DADADA DADA, DADADA DADA, DADADA DADA, DA, DO THE MARIO-SWING YOUR ARMS FROM SIDE TO SIDE, COME ON, IT'S TIME TO GO, DO THE MARIO! (Used to watch that show every Saturday morning...on Netflix, stop looking at me like I'm old!)**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Eight: Nintenna's Stories _****/*\**

The morning sun peeked through the playroom window and found that, exactly nine hours since they were last with the smashers, the kids were back at it again.

"Okay, so if we're going to be fighting," Harold summed, holding a clipboard and trying his best to look professional, "we're going to need somewhere to fight."

"Like a boxing ring?" Ness offered.

"Sure, but…I'm thinking something with more…_flare, _you know?" Harold tried to explain, spreading his open hands dramatically with the board under one arm. "Like you guys. A lot of different characters need a lot of different arenas, am I right?"

"Then we're going to need a LOT of inspiration," Freya noted to herself. "Hmmm…hey Link, you come from medieval times, right?"

Link nodded.

"And Samus looks pretty high-tech, so I guess he's from the future or something," she continued. "But then there's guys like Mario and Luigi, who look like they're from around the same time…"

"We also have the same symbol, if you haven't noticed," Mario perked.

"Symbol? What symbol?" Harold asked.

"This…symbol!" Mario answered, balancing on one foot to show the mushroom-headed symbol embroidered in his boot. He promptly fell over with an "Oof!" after his top-heavy body got the best of him.

"And this," Luigi noted, bending a knee to do the same. "It's a brand or something, I can't exactly remember."

"Do you all have the same symbol?" Caitlyn asked, plopping down next to Pikachu. The mouse trotted over to her and rubbed against her side, making sparks fly on her funky denim jeans.

"No, it just depends," Samus answered. "Pikachu and Jigglypuff have the same symbol, but the rest of us have others."

"Cool!" Harold smiled. "That would be—one, two, three, four—ten different stages at the least. But who says we can't add extras?"

Meanwhile, on Marco's desk, the two gloved brothers were experimenting with Yoshi. The toy was the only that volunteered out of the twelve, mainly because Captain Falcon's words about Marco's last sparking experiment passed like the spark itself to the others.

"I don't think working on about shields would work, unless you want Link's shield to start talking," Cress joked.

Marco chuckled a little at that. "Yea, if this goes well, he'll be needing that for defense," he noted humorously. "Hmm…I still don't know much about your backstory, ya know," he threw to Yoshi experimentally. "Maybe if I can find out more of your history?"

Yoshi hummed to himself over where to start. He tried speaking to them in his language, only for two blank stares to meet his words.

"…of course, we get some of the only non-speaking ones," Cress face-palmed.

"Uh, try…actions?" Marco asked.

Yoshi nodded and glanced around before spotting an old sketch of an island map. He ran to it and tapped a finger against it.

"So, you come from an island," Marco noted.

Yoshi nodded before going on to the next act; pointing to himself, then holding up his fingers in a vague large number.

"Are there a lot of you?" Cress guessed.

Another nod.

"So, it's like a Yoshi Island? That is your species, right?" Marco asked.

Yoshi bobbed excitably before looking to Marco's hand with a "Whoa!"

Marco looked to his right hand and saw a sparking ball starting to form. "Okay, that's weird," he mumbled.

"So, you come from an island called Yoshi's Island, where there are a lot of dinosaurs just like you," Cress added up the info. "Are they like animals, or is it some sort of tribe?"

Yoshi shook his head no, then yes.

"Err…alright, is it a tribe?"

Yes.

"And what are you in the tribe? Like, your rank or something."

Yoshi darted off into one of the various scrap piles before coming back out with a small collection of feathers. Grouping them all together and straightening them so they all pointed forward, he set it over his head.

"You're a chief?!" Cress gasped. He turned to his brother in panic. "Marco! Do you realize we have a chief in our midst?"

"Hm?" he asked, looking up. "Oh. No, I didn't."

"What the heck is that, anyway?" Cress looked over to see the green spark. It had gotten to be the size of a golf ball by now, and much more stable than it was moments before.

"I'm not entirely sure, because this whole thing is still new to me," Marco answered, lifting it up slightly, "but I think it might be some kind of permanent spark? It just kept growing when Yoshi was telling us."

"So that's the shield-thing you were thinking of?" Cress lead.

"I guess."

"For Yoshi?"

"Apparently."

"…should we YOLO it?"

"Are you crazy? What if it ends up killing him?!" Marco gasped, whipping his head fully forward on his brother.

Yoshi spoke up with a "Hey!" The two looked over to see that he was stepping close to it, like he was attracted to it. No one could hear from his view, but it was slightly humming in a theme to him. The dinosaur looked up at the two and put a hand over his heart, nodding quickly.

"You'll…you'll do it?" Marco blinked. "Are you sure?"

Yoshi nodded solemnly.

"Wow…" Marco breathed. "Taking a risk for the good of others…you're either very, very brave or just very, very stupid."

"I would go with that first one if I were you," Cress coughed.

Marco rolled his eyes before aiming at Yoshi and flicking the spark-ball to it with his spare hand. It shot right into Yoshi, the area casting a blinding white around itself and the dinosaur. The two covered their eyes with a hand or two, their mild shouts of surprise catching the attention of the others.

"Hey! What's that over there?" Captain Falcon asked, squinting through his blinder at the light where Yoshi was.

The light faded away a few seconds later, revealing Yoshi. But not much like what he was before; his stuffing had turned to flesh, his felt-made skin morphed into real scales, eyes moist and blinking unlike the wide stare he had before, stitches missing because there was no longer a need for them.

Yoshi himself lifted a hand to gaze on it, turned his head and shook the non-stiff tail, before finally jumping out in joy with a pleased noise. He circled several times before plopping down back in front of Marco and Cress.

"Dude!" Cress gasped. "Oh my gosh! Y-you just—it just—we made Yoshi r_eal!"_

Marco, meanwhile, looked exhausted. "Man, I feel like I just ran a marathon," he yawned. "I guess those sparks take a lot more than brain-juice…at least we found a way to preserve you guys, right?"

"Whoa!" Freya gasped after the three and the other smashers made their way over. "It's _sorcery!"_

"Yoshi, bud!" Mario called out, running over.

Yoshi turned to look at him, moments before his jaw shot open and a long, wet, pink tongue licked the plumber upside the chin. "Yoshiiiii!" Yoshi cheered while Mario picked himself back up for the second time that day.

**/*\**

It was a true blessing that fall break had arrived the day before, not just because Marco ended up collapsing on his bed in full-on unconsciousness, but because it gave the others time to plan their game.

Harold's clipboard paper was now etched with eight different symbols, one of each smasher's individual or shared symbols. Each also had the names of their owner(s) next to it, the result of an interesting few facts on their full names. "Luigi Mario"? Seriously?

"What can we call these, anyway?" Cress asked, tapping one of the symbols—Ness', the absolute pain to draw. "I mean, we can't just keep saying 'Mario and Luigi's' when we need to refer to that brand as whole. And they've got to mean something, right?"

"Hmm…names…" Freya's eyes glinted as deviously as Cress'. "Names…"

"…Caitlyn? Elaborate, please," Mewtwo asked.

"Whenever we make our monsters, Freya usually names them," the sibling explained. "She's pretty good at them, too; Bulbasaur, Charizard, Eevee…it's like she studies or something."

"I DO study them, thanks for noticing!" Freya giggled mischievously. "Anyways, uh, Mario and Luigi have the same last names, right? Why don't we just call that Mario Bros.?"

"Hmm…fair enough," Luigi shrugged. "But what about the others?"

"Link is from ancient times, right? Maybe his could be legend of Link?" Caitlyn suggested hopefully.

"The initials would be LOL," Cress deadpanned.

"Oh…that…that wouldn't work."

"Hey Link, don't you have something to do with a girl named Zelda?" Fox prodded.

Link nodded simply.

"Is she important? A little bird told me she was the princess of your land."

Link thought for a moment before nodding this time. It felt a little embarrassing for Fox to know more of his legend than he did, but that was a very complicated story…it took Nintenna half the night to explain it the first time around.

"AHA! Legend of Zelda!" Freya declared, startling them. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Hey," Harold noted, "if we're talking about royalty, why not something like a Hyrule Castle stage? There'd be platforms, and a castle background, I'm thinking sort of a balcony feel?"

"Sounds good to me!" Cress agreed. "But it would be kind of unfair if just Link got a stage, right? We should probably give the others one, too."

"What do you mean?"

"So, like, the Mario Bros could have some sort of mushroom kingdom stage," Cress explained. "Fox's could be his starship-thing—"

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW IT'S CALLED THE GREAT FOX!"

"—and there could be some kind of Pokémon battle stage for Pikachu and Jigglypuff," he continued.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, whoa," Freya interrupted, waving her hands in dismissal. "Those two aren't ours! We only created Mewtwo!"

"But did you see their symbol?" Cress argued. "It looks just like one of those Pokeballs you two rant about so much!"

"It does?" Caitlyn asked. Harold lent her the clipboard for evidence. "It does, doesn't it?" she giggled. "And…Freya, maybe they are Pokémon? Pikachu looks like an electric type to me…"

"…FIIIIINE, we'll accept them," Freya stated grudgingly, though secretly hiding the fact that Pikachu would be a great Pokémon mascot.

**/*\**

"It's rather nice of you to be doing this for him, you know," Ness spoke up.

"It's the least I could do," Freya shrugged.

The laptop's gentle purr was an assuring sound to her while the darkness of night shadowed every creepy corner and scary corridor of the house. Then, of course, there was Ness at her side to keep her company; his strange skills were a much-defined weapon against the dark forces of the world (or mice, anyway).

Which brought her to why she was there in the first place, at the late curfew of 10:00 PM or so, sitting on her bed with Ness perched on her knee and a laptop at the ready. She was still curious of the backgrounds of the toys, especially since several times during their conversation one or the other had brought up 'story' details. She never did get to ask what they were, the rapid-fire onslaught of ideas from her mind reaching her mouth faster than the question.

So she had taken to "interviewing" each one over their own personal story. First off, the only other being up at the unholy hour, was Ness.

"Now, mine's pretty long, so don't fall asleep on me, 'kay?" Ness warned.

"Sure thing. Hey, where do you get these stories? Marco and Cress say they came on a little scrap of paper, though they don't know much from it…"

"Well…the funny thing is, you weren't the first to spark us," Ness explained. "A long time ago—forty years, apparently—we were first created in this one jungle village."

"As toys?"

"Yes and no. Our literal fabric is this special kind of material that holds a spark, so we were never _just_ toys. 'Destined for something greater' is what I prefer."

"'kay."

"And this one girl in the village, Nintenna…" Ness sighed in memory at her name. "She…her father was the one who originally created us. He gave us to her, explaining the whole spark dealio and what-not, and she had sparked us by the end of the day. Girl was smart.

"She wrote up these long, long backstories for us that she would explain not just so we could understand who we really were and why we were like how we were, but because she was an absolute fanatic at stories of fantasy. She had dozens of others besides what she actually told us, all written to the last detail."

"What happened to her?" Freya asked, opening a new document on the computer for writing. "Or to you, I guess? How did you get separated? We don't have any jungles even close to where we are…"

"There was this outbreak in the town," Ness started…a little bit heartbroken, as evident of his tone. "A sickness outbreak. None of them knew what it was, couldn't cure it, anything. Nintenna's mother died of it."

Freya put a hand to her mouth in a gasp.

"Eventually, some out-of-region sailors came by with a cure. They said they would gladly give it to the village, but they had come from far away and it would cost them to get back. The village, naturally, came to a consensus that something needed to be traded to them…"

"And…that was you, wasn't it?" Freya concluded.

"Yep. Now, forty years later, we're with you and we have no clue why," Ness shrugged. How he took something so serious and let it go like a summer breeze, she didn't know. "But enough of the heartbreak—you probably want to hear about me, right?"

"Heck yea! Where does your story start?"

"In an ordinary, modern town where a meteorite crashes into the hill…don't look at me like that, it only gets weirder."

* * *

**Please, Freya. If you want to get creeped out, go hang out on the ****_Mother_**** Wiki for a few hours.**

**In other news… (Nintenna's story) ;-; DAT FEEL.**

**And OF COURSE I inject some of my personal comedy into the boring explanations! IT'S LIKE CAPTAIN AMERICA THAT WAY! That, and I'm already stockpiling for the Melee arch that you all are going to be hunting me down for since I'm going to viciously murder the Melee-only fighters…****_again. YES, AGAIN. _****Remember 'A Smasher's World'? I do. Mewtwo is ignoring me for it.**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who remotely gets Ness' last line, OR Yoshi's tale of epic proportions on an island, OR why Fox shouted that it's called the Great Fox!**

**Thank you all for reading! I love you now for reading, I'd love you even more if you hit that follow/favorite button and leave a review on your way out!**


	10. Chapter Nine: The Announcer's Arrival

**/*\ ****_Chapter Nine: The Announcer's Arrival _****/*\**

Marco got better and better at sparking the toys as the days flew by, and could eventually do it without passing out. Freya revealed the smasher's stories to him, though how she did it so accurately was beyond the group. Caitlyn speculated it had something to do with the dark circles forming under her twin's eyes…

Speaking of Caitlyn, she and Cress were about to attempt the second most dangerous stunt in all of kid's time...

…the first would be controlling giant robots that sap life-force energy, by the way…Where the heck did THAT come from?

"Ready for this?" Cress stated in a humorously serious manner.

"Y-yes, I think so…" Caitlyn gulped nervously.

"One of us might die…" Cress narrowed his eyes at their fate, the mid-sized door in the ceiling leading to the attic. "It'll probably be you."

"What?!" Caitlyn whimpered.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Cress laughed. "The worst in there is just a huge load of dust. The worst that could happen to _us _is an extra shower."

"Oh," Caitlyn nodded before perking up. "And you say there might be more of the smashers in there?"

"Smashers? When did we start calling them Smashers?" Cress repeated in a confused manner.

"It's just what me and Freya call them, since they're pretty powerful for such little guys," Caitlyn answered.

"Ah," Cress nodded, heading up the ladder as he spoke. "That's actually not a half-bad name."

Meanwhile, in the playroom itself, there was solid evidence that Freya and Caitlyn's name wasn't a half-bad idea. Marco had taken a break from working with the bouncy, ever-cheerful Jigglypuff to watch the exchange, which Harold was documenting and Freya was narrating.

It all started earlier that morning, when Harold had smuggled in a plate of breakfast for the smashers to try out. The resident bottomless pits, Yoshi and Kirby namely, had both gone after the same piece of egg. They wrestled over it for a bit, then switched to more unique tactics; Yoshi had used his tongue to eat Kirby himself and seal him in an egg, while Kirby had vacuumed in the dinosaur and spat him out over the edge of the table. If it wasn't for Yoshi's odd, kicking jump, he would have been done for.

Since they refused to go over more gentle measures, the two were about to head into a full-on brawl with one of the tables as the field. A few 'hazards', like pencils or knocked-over cups, had also been laid out on the field for sport. The other ten, Mewtwo, and the kids were watching, perched about various locations.

"Alright, just so you two don't kill each other…" Marco snapped his fingers about a foot above the tabletop, which in return made an odd shield of blue appear that surrounded the edges and top. It faded out of view after a few seconds, but not out of mind.

"WHOA!" several smashers awed.

"What was that?" Ness asked.

"I learned that protection spell when I was working with you guys," Marco explained. "If one of them flies out of the boundaries, they get K.O-ed. The more they get hit, the farther they fly with each hit, the greater a chance that they'll get knocked out of the boundary and loose. Think of it like a wrestling ring or something."

"Oh, so they don't murder each other?" Fox summarized. "I guess that's cool."

"Okay, winner takes all!" Freya declared as Harold held his hands out over the field. Yoshi was in one, doing some tongue-stretching-exercises; Kirby was in the other, looking ready to bolt at Yoshi.

"Three…"

Harold dropped Yoshi first, who rolled into an egg and hit the field with style.

"Two…"

Kirby was next, and didn't disappoint with his hitting-the-ground-as-a-star act.

"One…"

The smashers gazed excitably, Jigglypuff leaning forward on Marco's head to get a better look but falling and floating into his waiting hands instead.

"GO!" Freya called.

The two were on each other in an instant, and a fast-paced battle ensued. Kirby landed threesomes of punches as fast as lightning, knocking Yoshi away early. The dinosaur just tucked into an egg-covered roll and smashed into Kirby instead, dealing just as much damage. Kirby jumped onto one of the cups and hopped over Yoshi, forming into a stone and crushing the unsuspecting fighter. Yoshi wiggled out from under Kirby and licked him up with a "bum", spitting him back across the field.

The two went on and on, a chaotic fight to the naked eye. But Harold noticed something more; each fighter was using his own specialized attacks over and over, but in such a manner it was more of an at-their-disposal type way instead of a patterned one.

For instance, Kirby's rock attack was used several times and was executed in the same general way; jump up, float over, and crash down. It was like they had a move set in their head, as the girls would put it.

Maybe that's how he would put it too…

He took out his trusty clipboard with a gleam in his eye and sketched an image of Kirby's "down special" attack.

**/*\**

"Maybe you're right…maybe one of us will die in here…" Caitlyn murmured nervously, ringing her hands to hopefully lessen the pain of the splinters. "Although I don't know if it'll be me…"

"Relax!" Cress hollered from the other side of the attic. "The last time I was up here, there wasn't anything alive!"

A mouse promptly scurried across the room, one that had somehow escaped the killing spree from days ago. Both siblings saw it, their gaze following it as it dove back into the insulation.

"…okay, nothing _dangerous _and alive. I promise!" Cress quickly added.

"Alright…what did the crate look like?" Caitlyn asked, shoving away a shoebox with her foot.

"Uh, it was around your height," he relayed, pushing away a tower of boxes, "just an ordinary, wooden crate. It has an open lid and a broken broom next to it, though."

"A broken broom?"

"Long story."

Caitlyn nodded and squeezed past two large stacks, looking around harder for a crate with her brother's description. She wasn't sure what else would be in it, or what she was hoping would be in it; more of the smashers? Extra pairs of those strange gloves her brothers had? More of the magic cloth? Who knew…?

Her toe knocked against a wooden pole, making her look down while still in thought. She snapped back to reality as soon as she realized the pole was actually a broom—one with a broken tip. And the broom was next to an ordinary, wooden crate with a broken lid.

"I found it!" she called to Cress.

While Cress stumbled over the obstacles between them, falling on his face every now and then if a particular box got in the way, Freya peered into the crate. It contained little more than three intricately-decorated, small chests and a ton of dust, but that was mainly because a tanned tarp covered the lower levels of the box.

Cress finally caught up to her and looked in as well, picking up one of the two chests with a curious hum. "Weird," he muttered, looking it over. "I don't remember this being in there…"

"That's because you barely remember stuff at all!" Caitlyn giggled, taking the other.

Cress ignored her and furrowed his brow at the box. It, too, had the family emblem on it; but unlike the rather plain chest that the Smashers had been inside, this one had a coat of silver paint and etchings in a detailed, braiding pattern. There was some sort of name etched into the bottom, but it was in a foreign language…

"What's in yours? Mine just feels…powerful," Caitlyn asked. It was true; her box was a dark shade but with strange, rainbow edges, and gave off a somewhat strong pulse of energy.

"I have no idea," he answered, holding it up to his hear and shaking it slightly. His eyes widened when he heard a whispering from inside. "I…I think it might be alive," he added.

"Maybe it's a smasher!" Caitlyn gasped.

"Let's find out!" Cress declared, yanking the paperclip he had brought along out of his pocket. After a few tense minutes of lock-picking, the only item between them and whatever was in the box gently snapped off. "_Dunanana dunanana dunanuna dunanana_—"

"What are you doing?" Caitlyn asked, dumbfounded at the odd ringtone.

"…it just feels like instinct to open a chest with that music playing," Cress shrugged, flipping the lid open plainly.

An unexpected rush, like a strange wind, poured out of the box as soon as it was opened. Both of them yelped and shielded their eyes when a bright light flashed from it, bathing the attic in white. Cress ended up dropping the box in surprise. It only lasted a second, and then everything was back to how it was before they opened the box…albeit there was now dust floating everywhere from the odd gust.

"What—what was that?!" Caitlyn coughed.

"I don't know! But let's get out of here!" Cress shouted, gasping for breath. "I can't breathe!"

The two darted out, covering their mouths and eyes the whole way, Caitlyn still clutching the other box tightly.

**/*\**

Back downstairs, the battle seemed to be dying down. Both warriors were at very high damages, and it would only take a good knock from the other to send one flying. Everyone else was watching wide-eyed, flinching at every good hit, and just waiting for their balanced brawl to be over.

Except Harold, who was seemingly ignoring the taunts and hits like they were background music and was entirely focused on lining up the other smasher's blank move sets? He had no idea what skills they were holding back, only occasional glimpses; one time Fox had been knocked off a table, but propelled himself back up in a torpedo of flame.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and a dusty-looking Cress and Caitlyn ran in. They slammed the door behind them, Caitlyn falling against it while Cress ran to the others. Pure panic was in all their eyes at the state of the two, Freya immediately coming to Caitlyn's side; leaving the three boys to talk.

"Whoa, what happened to you?!" Marco exclaimed.

"Long…story…" Cress breathed. "But I might…have accidentally…cursed the house."

"WHAT?!" everyone shouted, the speech-challenged smashers even yelping at the word 'curse'. Link's left hand instinctively wrapped itself around his sword's handle, having experienced many absolutely _wonderful _hexes in the past. One left his voice in this shaky state, and he can still barely form a word without it cracking.

"Whaddya mean, you 'cursed the house'?! How does one ACCIDENTALLY curse a house?!" Mario shouted.

Cress was about to speak up and tell the whole story when a sudden clamor, yelp, and very minor explosion from the field caught their attention. Yoshi's limp, doll state hit the floor and went still, Kirby giving a victory cheer from the table.

"Aw, we missed the climax," Fox sighed.

Someone new made their presence known that very instant, after the two girls had rejoined the table and Fox lamented about their loss. He had actually been there for a while, watching the battle, remembering the skirmishes these characters had been in before. And he made himself known in a very startling way…

_"__**GAME!"**_

"AUUUUUUUGH!" "HOLY MILTANK!" "WHATWHOWHERE?!"

A much less startling chuckle, emanating in such a way that the whole room seemed to be laughing, rung in the group's ears. Cress was clutching the table in a death grip, Harold had fallen to his knees and was staring at the ceiling, Marco's chair was overturned and he lay groaning, the girls were hugging each other for dear life; Link, Mewtwo, and Ness' hands were clamped on their heads with pained expressions, Jigglypuff and Pikachu were staring around them in wonderment, Mario was shifty-eyeing the whole area, Fox's blaster was smoking from a shot, Samus had a hand on her arm cannon, Kirby blinked in confusion, Yoshi was a doll, and Donkey Kong and Luigi were cowering.

"…Creeeeeeess," Samus hissed.

"We just opened one of the boxes," Caitlyn whimpered in protest, "it was whispering, we thought it was another one of you, a-and—"

"_You are all seriously overreacting to this_," the same voice sighed. It had a masculine tone and sounded somewhat raw, like it had been shouting commands like that its whole life.

"…Okay, which box did you open?" Mario demanded Cress.

"Uh, it was silver…had all these weird carvings," Cress relayed, shaping his hands in explanation, "there was some name or something on the bottom—"

"UGH! IT'S YOU!" Ness shouted, pointing at the roof of the room. "I SWEAR, that first time around, you gave me a frillin' MIGRANE!"

"_I've gotten better!_" the voice protested. It was clear he was speaking through some means of telepathy, or else Link wouldn't look so distressed and Mewtwo wouldn't be so puzzled.

"No, Announcer," Ness winced with the exclamation, "you really haven't."

"The Announcer? What?" Harold blinked.

"Okay, long story short, some idiot in the village had been messing in one of the temples," Fox began. "A bunch of weird curse stuff later, we have THIS IDIOT—"Fox raised his arms into the air at the name. "—shouting out who won or who loss or whatever."

"_I have a title, you know. And what's a disembodied voice to do when he's locked up in a chest?_" the Announcer grumbled. _"Speaking of which, beware that young girl's cargo…BEWARE…"_

"Caitlyn, what's he yapping 'bout?" Harold asked.

"Maybe this?" Caitlyn inquired, setting the chest she still had on the table. Marco had deactivated the shield by then, meaning the chest could be placed in front of them without any resistance.

"Hey! I thought we lost those in the trade!" Ness laughed at the sight.

"Oh, so you know what's inside?" Marco inquired after setting his chair back up.

Donkey Kong ook-ed something in response, strolled over, and flipped open the lid. Pikachu jumped right over him and launched itself into the box, knocking a handful of the items out.

"Oh my gosh! Smallest baseball bat EVER!" Cress gasped, holding a wooden rod looking much like one between his fingertips. It was exactly half a finger long and looked rather harmless…

"Hey, everything's in here!" Luigi spoke up, head-deep in the items. Said items were rather odd; large paper fans, barrels and crates, tomatoes with the letter M stamped on the front, heart-shaped gems rimmed in gold, bombs with legs and eyes, turtle shells of red or green, rods tipped with stars, swords made of light, the list went on and on.

"What the heck _are_ those? Trophies? Figures?" Harold asked, picking up a bottle-shaped capsule with something red inside.

"No, they're items! And they do stuff like this," Ness stated, snatching the bottle from Harold's finger and smashing it on the ground.

A small explosion ensued, knocking the recovering Yoshi off the table again. Several more of the items were left behind, one of which being a baseball bat that Ness gladly accepted. He rushed over to the box and took out a small sandbag about as tall as himself, then proceeded to drag it over to a clear spot on the table.

"…_OKAY, NINE ENNINGS THE SCORE'S TIED COME ON NESS WE NEED THIS, WE NEED THIS NESS, COME ON, COME ON, COME ON_," the Announcer narrated as Ness prepared to swing the bat.

The young boy hit it full-force and spot-on, sending it flying across the room—

CRASH!

-and right through the window.

"Oh, crud," Marco gulped.

**INTRODUCING…THE ANNOUNCER! He…announces…stuff.**

**Announcer: Wow. You can just ****_feel _****the creativity overflowing from this chick.**

**HEY! ...did you just call me a chick?**

**Announcer: Well, that's what the reviewers are saying! The creativity part, I mean!**

**True, true, and I love their complements! Thanks for reading, guys, and sticking with me through the minor hiatuses this thing is happening!**

**Oh, on the topic of that announcer: I know that he is also the voice of the hands, leading most to believe that he IS the hands, but I don't wanna be normal! I want to make this guy a character! Who shouts constantly!**

**Announcer: Now it's my turn to be offended.**

**Quiet, voice in my head, or I'll poke you with a Q-tip again. Oh yea, and BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who can figure out why Link, out of everybody, would be affected by loud telepathy! Come on, my fellow Zelda nerds, you should know this…it's how half the games are started…**

**Announcer: Well, that's vague.**

**They'll get it. Ayako should get it at least. ANYWAY, hug those Eevee and I'll see you next chapter! **


	11. Chapter Ten: Escape and Congregate

**...dang it, nobody got the nerd points-**

**Announcer: Told ya.**

**Quiet, you. For those of you guys wondering, I was thinking the telepathy would affect Link the most since Hylians are born with the cool ability to send thoughts to each other! Hence, telepathy! Hence, how Zelda contacts Link back in the early games! Hence...Announcer being annoying!**

**Announcer: Hey, I'm not the one who doesn't upda-*Glances down at title* well lookie here...double digits, huh?**

**Yep...I remember back in the days when I got really excited over these things...the tenth WGDitPC chapter was typed on my mom's friend's couch, by the way...*siiiigh*, the nostalgia...**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Ten: Escape and Congregate _****/*\**

The window shattered with an unholy _CRASH! _All eyes instantly went to the hole, jagged and branching cracks like a tree's roots. A breeze began blowing through it, whistling through the smaller cracks; they would have noticed, if they weren't so petrified in fear of the punishment.

"...Cress, Marco?!" the boys' mother called from downstairs. "Was that one of you?!"

"Of course she blames me first," Cress sighed.

"Hey, you broke the living room lights twice," Marco muttered back.

"We're dead," Harold whimpered. "My mom normally doesn't care if I break stuff, but on your turf…"

"We mighthavepossiblyaccidentally brokenawindow!" Marco yelled back quickly.

"You did _what _now?" her voice was closer now, probably a few steps from the door—they could hear her coming.

Acting swift, Freya swept her arm to the smasher's backs so that they were knocked off the table. This was met with several "hey!" and "we can hide ourselves, you know!" before they scurried off. All except Mewtwo, Pikachu, and Jigglypuff; Mewtwo gathered the other two creatures before encasing himself in a purple glow and vanishing into thin air, taking the unsuspecting Pokémon with him. Unknown to the bewildered kids, he teleported to the entrance of an old mouse hole and lead them to the girl's room.

The four sibling's mother, a young woman with black hair, opened a small opening in the door before swinging it open and gasping at the broken window.

"I can totally explain everything!" Cress shouted, jumping in front of the window with his arms flailing before ultimately falling on his side. He pulled an awkward smile and a pose after the impact, since falling on his side happened every now and then and he was used to it. "There was this ball, you see, and Freya—"

"Hey!" from Freya's side of the story.

"—bounced it to hard towards the window," Cress continued.

"Alright then—will you get off the floor? There's glass over there!" she groaned.

Cress scrambled to his feet and strutted back over to the others less than casually. Freya was glaring daggers and Harold was hiding a laugh under a cough, Caitlyn was still bewildered and Marco groaned in his facepalm.

**/*\**

The playroom was evacuated, and the girls took any toys they 'needed'; the kids somehow got away without a punishment, most likely because they were just playing around (as far as the adults knew) and didn't mean any harm to the window itself. It would need to be repaired, a difficult task considering it was on the second story, but only a fraction of the window was broken—a small tarp was put up to block out the incoming winds.

They didn't see the smashers for a good while afterwards, though.

They knew it wasn't because Freya had shoved them off, as she had meant well and they had survived worse. The mouse holes provided ways out, so it couldn't have been because they were trapped, even with all the adults now focused on it and putting a general no-fly zone over the place. In fact, Mewtwo was probably already leading the smaller Pokémon to safety.

So what could possibly trap ten very capable fighters in a room where exits were available?

Fear.

"We've got to get out of here," Samus spoke quietly from his spot behind a table leg. He held a defensive stance, legs poised to bolt and arm cannon at the ready, though being caught by one of the adults would ultimately lead to disaster.

"Are you sure?" Luigi asked, pressed against the wood leg just adjacent to Samus. "We don't know what's out there…"

"Mewtwo says it's safe," Ness offered. "And he's a pretty reliable cat, if you ask me."

"Yes, and he's also a psychic who could tell if someone's coming," Fox argued. "We've been in here when people who don't know us are in the room; why can't it stay that way?"

"Because adults are unpredictable and very, very suspicious," Samus stated. "They'll think the house is infested with mice—which it was—and whatever they send to kill the rodents would also kill us."

"So we need to get out of here," Mario swallowed his suspicion. In reality, instinct was binding the smashers to stay in the room: it had taken a while to convince them to come with Freya when she was writing down their stories, and even traveling in the ducts made the brave Samus nervous. An invisible force was binding them there, and they weren't sure what would happen if they left that bind for too long.

Whatever it was, it was better than being poisoned by bait or smoked out of the house or whatever people did with mice those days; they eventually came to the unanimous agreement that they had to leave the room until the window was fixed.

Link went first, the courage he was born with shining through ("Or maybe the idiotism," Samus had argued). His path consisted of quickly darting to the shadows of table legs, ducking behind scattered toys and other objects, even taking the dare to walk silently in the wake of an adult. He made it to the slightly-ajar door, and Samus could see him signaling for them to follow through her helmet's magnification.

Fox was voted next, using a slightly louder system of 'barrel rolling' to hiding places. Luigi kept wincing when a carpeted thud reached him, afraid they would attract unwanted attention, but he also made it and joined Link at the door.

Samus folded into his Morph Ball and simply rolled through the room, as unnoticed and unseen as the orange-shielded marble he had contorted herself into. They had seen this trick before, and still had no idea how he did it. All he hinted was the Chozo, whom they knew equally as much about.

Mario and Luigi both went at the same time, one with too much courage and the other with practically none. The brothers weren't the best at stealth, but managed not to be spotted by any of the four humans. There was a bit of a breath-holding moment when Mario jumped too high and made one of his electronic _blar! s_ounds, making the humans look their direction. A teddy bear hid them, though, and the people eventually shrugged it off as the wind.

"I'm going to kill him for doing that if we all make it," Samus muttered. Link flashed her a surprised glance before turning back to where the five left were about to cross.

Back underneath the table, Ness, Captain Falcon, Yoshi, Kirby, and Donkey Kong were thinking about just how they would make it. The pattering of Yoshi's boots, the stomping of Donkey Kong's run, the plodding of Kirby's feet, and the clattering of Captain Falcon's metal could each give their owners away—or, at the very least, make the next person's passing impossible. Only Ness could really slip by undetected, but he wasn't about to abandon the other three for his own safety; what kind of a hero does _that_?!

"Hm…" Captain Falcon squinted across the room to where the others were tensely waiting. He turned around to their group, where Ness was posing philosopher-style, Kirby was blinking innocently, Donkey Kong was glaring at the terrain ahead, and Yoshi was observing the humans. "Anybody got any ideas?" he asked, drawing their attention.

"I could light a fire to distract them," Ness offered, throwing a spark between his fingers and shouldering the adults.

"We don't want to do damage, and they'll get suspicious, anyway," Captain Falcon dismissed.

Kirby inflated himself quietly and flapped his arms, silently asking if they could fly.

"What about ol' DK?" Captain Falcon prompted. "Flying's even more eye-catching than a fire, too."

Yoshi curled up and summoned an egg around him, his chirp from inside asking about egg-rolling.

"You know you can't lead that many eggs, Yoshi," Captain Falcon sighed. "Plus, I'd rather not be an omelet…"

Donkey Kong plucked Ness off the ground, ignoring the boy's protestant yip, and aimed it for the crack in the door.

"And if you miss…?" Captain Falcon asked.

"_Hey, what about me? I can help!"_

They had forgotten about the announcer when he shout-whispered in their personal space, causing them to flinch.

"You're a disembodied voice, what can YOU do?" Ness growled, covering his ears again.

"_Don't underestimate the power of a narrator!" _he chuckled mischievously.

Ness felt his presence recede, and cautiously peeked out from behind the table leg to see what would happen. Nothing did for several patient moments, and it looked like the parents were about to leave the room; hence, spotting the five who had already made it.

The clearing of a familiar voice caught him from his fears…

"_AS OUR BRAVE HEROES ARE CAUGHT BY THE ENEMY," _the Announcer narrated in an attention-catching voice, making the adults call out in panic, "_WE CAN ONLY WONDER WHAT THEY CAN DO! WILL THE BRAVE FIVE FIND A WAY OUT OF THIS MESS…?" _

The smashers were halfway across the room, and the parent's faces were priceless as they kept looking around for the invisible voice.

"_…__OR SHALL THEY BE GIVEN AWAY, FOREVER DOOMED TO DO THEIR ENEMIES BIDDING?!" _Announcer's voice was triumphant, somewhat ruining the fate he was telling; that didn't matter to the four people about to declare their house haunted, though. "_STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OF 'HEIRLOOMS'!"_

…jerk.

**/*\**

With a gentle shove of the flat of her palm, Caitlyn pushed the fire-type evolution of Eevee back into its place. She sat back on her haunches, legs folded beneath her, and admired the shelves upon shelves of creatures.

Both the twins had accepted that Marco's sparking didn't work on these specific toys, and that they would be forever looking over the bedroom for as long as their fabricated pelts lasted. And more would join them, as long as Caitlyn had fabric and Freya had ideas, until eventually they would need to resort to piling them on the floor or in boxes or maybe even hanging from the ceiling; the three legendary birds were already up there, each strung higher than the one before it, flying in an upwards circle above and between the two's beds.

She fell onto her back and cast eyes on each one, from the terrifying Aerodactyle they had formed out of clay to the warm and cuddly Torchic stuffed with downy chicken feathers. Most of them were made of cloth, true, but if the art teacher let her use an extra hunk of clay she would make a Pokémon out of it. Some were fully clay, like the replica Golem and Onix; some were made of both, like Omanyte and Parasect; and a few were a kind of their own, like the Porygon made of scrap plastic or the Oddish that was actually a flower pot.

Pikachu, Jigglypuff, and Mewtwo were all perched upon the dresser in various actions. Mewtwo had his legs dangling over the edge, tail swerving gently as he picked up Caitlyn's relaxed mood. Jigglypuff was curiously poking at a Charizard doll on the windowsill, wondering if it would come alive and attack. Pikachu was watching some toy fish decorated as Magikarp float about in a fish tank Freya had acquired at one point, as well as the bobbing Seadra and the plastic Gyrados coiled at the bottom.

Freya opened the door to the room and closed it without turning, stumbling to her bed like a zombie and falling onto it. "I'm boooooooored," she complained.

"What are your brothers doing? I am sure they are entertaining," Mewtwo offered.

"They're looking for the rest of you guys and said I can't help because it would look suspiiiiiiiicious," she drawled.

Mewtwo turned back to the shelves as Freya let out a sigh. He had memorized most of their work on the first day he was let in the room, now able to know each by species name and evolution. He was still working out type advantages, and the moves each could learn, which the girls themselves had to look to a cheat sheet for.

"…Freya?" Caitlyn asked.

"Yeaaaaaa?" Freya groaned.

"Do you think we could try and find that extra cloth that we made Mewtwo out of?" she continued.

"I don't know…" Freya huffed.

Caitlyn put on a determined, 'I know what I must do' expression and rolled off her bed. Crawling over to Freya's bedside, she kneeled and set her chin on the sheets.

"_Do you wanna build some Poke-moooooon," _she sang to a certain Disney princess movie's song lyrics, "_c'mon, I'll find some clooooth…"_

Freya turned her head to give Caitlyn an amused smile.

"_I can't take this anymore, I'm really bored, let's go and craft a 'mooooon! We only have each other…and those three-" _she shouldered in the smasher's direction, "_what do you wanna doooooo?"_

_"__Do you wanna build some Poke—moooooon, it doesn't have to be Poke—moooooon…" _Caitlyn waited for Freya's reaction.

"…HECK YEA!" Freya shrieked, jumping out of bed. Caitlyn laughed alongside her as they ran out of the room, leaving a bewildered trio of Pokémon behind.

"…what in Kanto just happened?" Mewtwo asked.

**Every good book has a song at some point!**

**Announcer: AHHHH, I love the smell of a fourth wall break in the morning!**

**Save that for WGDitPC, you little—**

**Announcer: Language!**

**Fine then…BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who can tell me what/who Chozo, Barrel Rolling, and Kanto are! And thanks for reading! …*ahem*, **

**_~Do you wanna play some Smash Brothers? C'mon, let's go and braaaaawl…I'll beat you with Pit, admit it, you're bored out of your miiiind! We only have two players…lets Me-e-lee, or I can drag out the 3DS…do you wanna play some Smash Brothers? It doesn't have to be-e Smash Brothers…~_**

**Announcer: Stop singing already, you Frozen-obsessed freak of nature!**

**_okay, byyyyeeeee…~ _****Hug your Eevee, guys, I'll see you next chapter! Bye!**


	12. Chapter Eleven: A Master Hand

**YYEEEAAAAA! EVERYBODY GOT AT LEAST ONE NERD POINT RIGHT! Namelyyyyyy...**

**The One Named Light  
PikaLoverNYA  
Gatomongamer  
Captain Robin (guest)  
ClearShadows117  
LovingTogetic  
J.C. Doggendoodle  
Starryskys102  
MissQuestions-LaAmazingNabo**

***Throwing nerd points around* (British accent) EVERYBODY LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVEES!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Eleven: A "Master" Hand _****/*\**

"Well, this was an exciting day."

"'Exciting'?" Cress repeated. "You think too small. This day was a gargantuan mixture of absolute craziness, baked in an oven of impossibility, added with randomness sprinkles and a broken window top."

Marco turned on his side to stare oddly at Cress, who stayed on his backside and gazed at the ceiling in a relaxed state of memory. Since Marco usually occupied what was considered the guest bedroom, and Harold was residing in there now, that left him to house with Cress. He found it more peaceful than being stared down by Freya and Caitlyn's creations all night, and the couch did a number on his spine in the morning; it did, however, come at the expense of being with the least sane person in the household all night.

"…are you saying that today was a cupcake?" he finally asked.

"I guess," Cress shrugged.

As said earlier, least sane.

While the two were discussing about pastries and the day's events, the smashers were hidden in the shadows of the hallway and debating their next move.

The dining room and living room lights from below harshly contrasted the darkness of the second floor, like a city being viewed from afar during the night. Slits of light came through the railing, and fell away in shades around the stairs, but the rest was dark enough to hide even Ness' contrasting clothing.

"Ugh, with you wearing neon, how did they _not _see us?" Samus complained.

"Hey, don't like it, don't look," Ness shrugged.

The human-like smashers had their backs pressed against the railing, tall forms perfectly hidden by them. Donkey Kong and Kirby stayed nearby, even if Kirby tried and adorably failed to stretch himself high enough as to hide with the tall-statured.

"I wish Mewtwo had taken the rest of us," Luigi sighed. "At least he knows a little more than us of the terrain out here…"

"Fox? You've been out here; do you know anything?" Mario asked.

"I was unconscious or in a pocket just about the entire time, sorry," Fox answered. "I do know that all the kids sleep on this floor…"

"That's good enough," Samus deemed.

Donkey Kong turned at the sound of something banging onto floor and two different gasps; one panicked, one frustrated. All four noises originated from inside one of the doors, which also happened to be the one with a dawn-like light leaking from underneath. As he looked on, something very thin and shiny slipped underneath and skidded on the wooden floor.

After sending a glance to the others as they pondered, he approached it cautiously. It was about half his side, with a hole centered in one end and a tip sharp enough to spear the thickest fabric.

Without a doubt, a needle.

Surprisingly, he wasn't too afraid of something that could easily impale his spark out. Back at the jungle, Nintenna's father had used these slivers of metallic substance to fix torn fabric. And her mother had taught the girl to use it for them as well; nary a thorn-wound or scar from vicious animal remained when she had it in her fingertips.

With that said, he was curious to find out who used such a potent tool.

"Great, now there's stuff everywhere…" he heard Freya's voice complain.

"Just be careful, it might have broken that set of needles!" Caitlyn's warning followed.

"I think it did…ugh, we better pick these up, or the vacuum will catch them," Freya noted.

So the girls were seamstresses? Makes sense, seeing how they could craft Mewtwo so well.

…oh yea, and they were looking for them.

Donkey Kong hollered quietly for the others while gesturing to the door. The signal worked and they all approached, slow at first but faster when they realized the object he had at his feet.

"A needle? What?" Mario asked, probing it with a foot.

Link gripped it by the holed end and lifted it like a lance, causing several shouts of "watch it!" and the like from the smashers at the other end. He held it straight upwards and observed it a moment before deciding upon sheathing it to his back, crosswise of the Master Sword.

"So the girls are in here," Samus mumbled after a few more conversation snippets leaked from the room.

"That's great and all, but how do we get in?" Fox groaned, crouching to the crack of the door. It was only large enough for him to get a paw through and fetch a needle that had also fallen near the archway, perhaps tall enough for Kirby to squeeze through if he tried.

Ness stepped back and took a look at the handle pensively. "…if we get a boost," he finally said, "One of us could open that door from the handle."

"How?" Samus blurted. "That thing's too high to reach even if we try towering."

"And there's nothing out here to use," Luigi added.

"Hm…" Captain Falcon put a hand to his chin. Looking from Samus to the needles Fox and Link brandished, an idea started to light up in his eyes. No one could really tell since his eyes weren't visible to the eye, but trust me, there was an idea.

"Anybody got a rubber band?" he finally asked.

"Why?" Ness asked.

"If we take those two needles," he pointed to where Fox and Link were having a mock-duel, "and stick them in the floorboards like a V," he formed a shape with his arms, "then string a rubber band across them and lodge Samus in her morph ball in it," he lastly pointed to Samus, "then launch her, she could reach the doorknob!"

"And if I don't want to be used as a mock cannon ball?" Samus deadpanned.

"Then we'll use Kirby."

"Poi?"

"Eh, sounds good enough," Ness shrugged.

"Perfect plan! Hey, Fox!" Mario called to Link and Fox.

"THIS IS SPAR—you needed something?" Fox stopped right before his action of kicking Link in the gut so he was launched off the edge. Link slouched to the floor in relief and quietly slinked out of needle-range, re-sheathing his own.

"…uh…" Mario stuttered before regaining his serious look. "We're going to need those needles."

**/*\**

Using a hair tie found on the floor of a nearby bathroom, the ten formed Captain Falcon's mock-trebuchet. And after confirming that the needles were safely wedged into a gap in the wood, Samus rolled into his sphere state and allowed himself to be loaded ("Watch the hands, buster.").

"And so I'm going to jump out of this at the last second and open the door?" Samus confirmed. His voice sounded contortioned when in this form…almost feminine.

"Yep!" Captain Falcon nodded.

"Alright, here we go," Mario stated, grabbing the end that required being pulled back. Most of the others pitched in as well, save for Kirby, who lacked the limbs needed for the job.

"One…two…THRE-HEEE!"

The band snapped back the instant they all let go, firing Samus upwards. Unfortunately, the force was too great; she instead rebounded off the handle at great speeds and knocked around the walls for a while like an out-of-control bullet.

"TAKE CO—" Ness was barreled over by the ball and couldn't finish his sentence due to lack of consciousness.

Samus finally stopped the process by jumping out, hitting the handle of a nearby door and rotating it as he slipped off. It clicked quietly and the door was propped open, the smashers audibly sighing in relief. If he had smashed a window or something, there wouldn't have been any other place to hide…

"Wrong door, but it'll work," Fox shrugged.

Link poked his head into the room, carefully observing what room they had unlocked. Items were strewn about the floor like a series of islands on a carpet sea, unrecognizable in the starlight that filtered through the small window on the wall. A desk with stacks of paper sat in one corner, evidently homework, and a bed was placed opposite of it—so the headboard was against the wall. A mattress was parallel to the bed, both occupied by sheets and the sleeping form of a certain duo of boys.

"It's Cress' room," Captain Falcon breathed, Ness dragged by him on the neck of his shirt.

"Not exactly who we were aiming for, but better," Fox muttered, investigating a nearby heap. At least the clothes were mostly focused in one pile, like a makeshift launder basket…

"So…mission accomplished?" Luigi asked.

The others shrugged.

Yoshi trotted up to the side of the desk, where the fingertip of a single white glove was visible. They were both kept up there, apparently, safe from any rodents. It was Marco's, seeing how it reflected the low light and was clean of the darker shade Cress' carried.

As he watched, it twitched.

The confused dinosaur wiped its hands over its eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Marco's glove, an inanimate object clearly not capable of anything on its own besides laying limp, had shivered slightly. But when he stared hard enough, he could make sure of it, and exclude the possibility that it was just a strange reflection or trick of the eye. It had moved.

And moved again.

Yoshi cautiously whined to the nearest smasher, Luigi.

"Hm? What is it, Yoshi?" Luigi asked.

He pointed to the glove firmly, casting Luigi's gaze to it. They both flinched when it slipped out of view, taking Cress' glove with it as it piggy-backed on top, and made a barely audible sound of cloth wiping on wood.

But it increased to something stranger; a chuckle. A human-like, very low, somewhat unnerving snuff of laughter.

"Did you hear that?" Fox hissed.

"I thought that was just me," Luigi whimpered.

Whoever was on the mattress turned over in his sleep, and a quick flash of smooth black told them it was Marco.

The glove leapt as well.

"WHOA!" Samus yelped as it dove towards him, middle fingers crossed like an airplane in a much-apparent attempt at dive bombing.

It levitated above them, not the least floppy and lifeless but filled and pulsing like it was an actual hand. A bit of a wrist, a ghostly and black one that faded off abruptly past the main joint, was visible from afar; it was much more visible up-close—when it was trying to maim them.

"AH! ATTACK OF THE GLOVE!" Luigi yelped when it stabbed at him, small red bursts of light showing upon contact. It finished with a final jab and sent him into a nearby pile.

"Hey! No one picks on MY brother and gets away with it!" Mario growled, forming a fireball in hand and pitching it at the wrist.

It made contact and erupted in a small blast of flames, the glove flipping around and facing him angrily.

"So it can be harmed!" Fox deducted as it went on hand-to-…hand combat with Mario. He quickly skidded up behind it, trademark speed coming into play, and shot several blasts.

Unexpectedly, the glove touched on the floor with two fingers, mimicking a person. It backpedaled and kicked at Fox, then went forward and tripped up Mario before finishing with a flick. Both smashers landed nearby, groaning slightly, as it turned to the group.

"Well?! Harm it!" Samus snapped, loading her canon.

A brawl ensued, the door snapping shut when a gust of knockback wind hit it. The glove was clearly beyond the fight-or-flight strategy the mice had used in the past, and was much more of a fight-and-fight-and-fight fighter. It used motions most people would normally use; snapping, poking, walking, slamming, slapping, and flicking, for instance. But they were all so much more hurtful, and the swerving turns of the hand made even basic attacks hard to land.

It was quickly evident that the same barrier Marco put up was in place, seeing how Link went limp after hitting it. It was also quickly evident that no matter how loud they screamed in pain or war-cry, neither brother would respond. It might have been because of the sheets they were buried under…

Samus managed to fire a shot into the black interior of the glove, and it froze mid-attack to cringe in much-apparent pain. Marco hissed through gritted teeth back where he was, and subconsciously gripped his right wrist, like he felt the pain of the glove…

"Hey!" Mario shouted above the sounds of battle. "You saw that, right?!"

"Saw wha—AUGH!" Fox yowled as he was flung through the barrier, falling into a lifeless pile of fabric.

"How Marco moved!" Mario elaborated. "Like this is his doing!"

"Why would—" Luigi cut himself off to duck under the glove's swipe. "Why would he do this?! He'd never take out Link OR Fox!"

"Maybe it's his subconscious?!" Samus suggested before jumping up in his morph ball to drop an explosive above the glove.

"How does that work?! It's a GLOVE!" Captain Falcon groaned. During his complaint, the glove raised itself and formed a claw-like pose. White beams of high energy blasted from the tips and moved as it shifted, unfortunately hitting the captain and knocking him out of bounds with a dying shout.

His toy form clattered on top of Ness, who happened to be finally waking up. He quickly yelped and flung the defeated form off himself, sighting the battle. "What the—what's going on?! Is that a glove?!" he asked through cupped hands.

"BATTLE, YES, GET ONE OF THE KIDS!" Samus hollered.

"Okay then!" Ness yelped, whipping around franticly. Marco was still locked in his apparent nightmare, one Ness wasn't sure he could pull him out of, which left him with simply Cress.

He ran over to the bed, jumping over Kirby's limp state on the way, and trying to keep out the attention-grabbing sounds of the duel. On the way inwardly complaining how he was always the one to be knocked out, highly unlikely since he wasn't even that tall of a smasher, and how he always had such a bad running speed.

He did, eventually, make it to Cress' side (unfortunately not fast enough for Donkey Kong, whose body was pitched out of the arena like a thrown baseball). Cress himself looked pretty drugged, and both the height difference and Ness' lack of volume would prevent him from actually getting him up. But if he didn't, Mario, Samus, and Yoshi would be doomed…then him, if that glove somehow escaped its boundaries.

"But still!" he growled to himself. "How am I going to reach him…?!"

"_I'm still here!" _Announcer chirped out of nowhere. To be honest, he had been hanging around the house unseen since the assignment to distract the adults, but the sheer paranoia at a disembodied glove attacking sent him into a bit of a holy-crab-we're-doomed self-rant. And since there wasn't anything better to do and waking up Cress might save them all…

"That's great!" Ness fist-pumped. "Can you wake up Cress?"

"_Pfft, yea, what else am I going to do, announce him?" _Announcer muttered sarcastically. A second thought hit him. "_Wait a minute…"_

"Don't mind me, I'll just go and find some cotton for my ears."

"_Have fun with that…__**CRESS!"**_

"AUGH!" Cress shouted, jumping out of the mangled bedding. "WHAT IN THE—"

"HEY! GLOVE! ATTACKING! _NOW!" _Ness barked.

"What do you—WHAT IN THE—" Cress gaped as Yoshi let out a dying squeal. The unfortunate reptilian became splayed across the bedpost, leaving just the bounty hunter and plumber. The glove was beginning to show signs of defeat, patches ripped and edges flayed. But it was unknown if the two could take any more, either, both panting and sore from the beating.

Cress launched himself off the end of the bed and side-rammed into the desk's side, not paying attention to the bruise as he was too busy slipping on his own glove. It didn't show any signs of going haywire, or any sort of alike reason Marco's glove would have.

"I have literally no clue what's going on, but I think YOU need to stop acting so CRAZY!" Cress barked, firing a beam at the shield. It broke a split-second before Samus hit it, letting her get away with skidding the floor instead.

The glove whipped around and froze. It might have been the sight of Cress about to slap it, or maybe the alike glove he was holding, or maybe the whole situation altogether, but for whatever reason it froze and let Cress swat it into the wall.

It merely flattened against the wall, a few minor electric shocks racing across it before it fell limp onto the floor as nothing more than a harmless glove.

* * *

**There's more, but I ought to cut if off here so your eyes don't burn away or something.**

**And I updated because TODAY IS SUCH AN EXCITING DAY! I got my New 3DS (the newest system, mind you) in the mail today, had it booted up, and now own the freedom to play Pokémon X and KI: U anytime I want! YUSSSSS!**

**Announcer: Good for you, good for you. The first thing on your list better be a Super Smash Bros. 3DS game…**

**It isssssssss, I promise, don't I LOOK like an SSB nerd to you? Anyway, BONUS NERD POINTS to anybody who picked up Cress' reference, Fox's reference, or understand what a Morph Ball is and the issue revealed on Game Theory (owned by MatPat) with it!**

**Announcer: So hey, getting a new system's nice and all, but why else won't you wipe that stupid grin off your mug?**

***Massive smile plastered on face*…I'll give you a hint. *Lays arm across Announcer's shoulder in an "X, X everywhere" pose*. Somewhere out there…roughly one year ago…there's a thirteen-year-old.**

**Announcer: Okay…how are you doing that when I'm invisible—**

**And she's acting all hyper, grinning like a Rotom, and do you know what she says?**

**Announcer: Uh, no…**

**She's saying, "Gee, I can't wait to make a FanFiction account!"**

**Announcer: How would you know? Not everyone wants to write stuff about Nintendo—**

**"****And I think I'll call myself Reevee21!"**

**Announcer: …wait…wait wait wait wait, wait. Wait. One year ago?**

**Mmmm-hmmm.**

**Announcer: A thirteen-year-old.**

**Mmmm-hmmm.**

**Announcer: …happy birthday, Reev.**

**Thank you. Thank you very much.**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Smashing Brothers

**And the nerd points go tooooooooo...**

**Kit the Pokemaniac  
Gatomongamer  
LovingTogetic  
Zero612  
MissQuestions-LaAmazingNabo!**

**Meh...less than last time, since I'm updating in the same week. Wait, I'm updating Heirlooms twice in one week?! IT'S ONE OF THE TWELVE SIGNS OF THE APOCOLYPSE! QUICK, EVERYONE, GATHER UP YOUR CANS! IT'S THE END! IT'S THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNDDDD-**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Twelve: Smashing Brothers _****/*\**

The darkness was everywhere.

A cavernous backdrop encased his dreamscape in a deep opal shell, echoing the thick ink that dribbled down the walls like pancake syrup. The effect was a disgusting, darkly-muttering burble that dragged his attention to them constantly, even if they didn't mound up and flood the place like he expected. It didn't help that streaks of gold and lilac would show off every now and then, the colors especially attractive against the black and deep purple.

He breathed into the space, creating an echo that joined the bubbling. It sounded to be pretty large, especially since there wasn't anyone else here. Just him, standing in his normal day clothes—green shirt, black pants, gray vest, white glove—

Hold on a second.

He looked down and held his right hand near his face, observing that this was the same glove he found himself wearing while playing with the smashers. Marco found it strange, because even if he did now carry the glove in his pocket frequently, he didn't tend to actually wear it outside the playroom. So why would he fantasize it…?

"**Well hello there, Master.**"

Looking back up but keeping his hand still, Marco sighted a brief haze of cerulean blue above him that illuminated with every word it spoke. It seemed more like a digital cloud of smoke, made up of bar layers, as if animated or pixilated. The voice it used was masculine and aged, yet seemed to resonate even without the chamber's echoes; frightening him more than the cascading liquid somehow.

"'Master'?" Marco repeated. "…I hope I'm not going psycho…"

"**Why would you need to?**" the fog stated passively. "**You wield the glove, do you not? That makes you Master.**"

"And while Master Tenda makes a good title—and sounds like some sort of reference—I think that would technically make Cress a master, too," Marco argued.

"**Master, there is only one of you. This 'Cress' you speak of sounds as if he is Crazy,**" the fog answered.

"He's not completely nuts!" Marco gaped. "Yea, there was that weird cupcake-day thing, but that doesn't entirely mean—"

"**I apologize for interrupting, but it seems like our meeting has been cut short,**" the fog noted.

"By…who?" Marco glanced sideways to the falls as he spoke, noticing how they seemed to bend. Reforming as if sharp crystals were hidden inside, and collecting together so that there were only ten streams running down the walls—but thick enough to swallow a grown man whole. They continued to become more streamlined and defined, each stream concealing a differently sized and shaped…thing.

He jumped back with a gasp as they suddenly leapt out, spraying the ink-like coating everywhere. He found himself backed into a mostly-concealed overhang, thankfully leaving him unscathed, but it didn't hide what had come out from his quickly-widening eyes.

Ten sharp-edged figures stood in the hall, each staring him down even with no eyes. They were many shades of bright colors—rose pink, baby blue, and mint green—but their hardened points and threatening postures held enough information for him. Oddly enough, the two at the back simply dissipated away; and one of the fighters was laying on the ground, either asleep or unconscious.

"What on earth are those and _why are they looking at me like that?" _Marco breathed.

"**Polygons, Master,**" the fog introduced as plainly as one who doesn't care about the outcome. "**Robots built for fighting to the point that they destroy everything in their way…this, unfortunately, means you.**"

"Okay. How do I fight them?" Marco stated, his hardened tone barely betraying the fear and bewilderment he withheld.

"**I believe you are a sparker, Master? Use your skills,**" it explained.

Right as it finished, one of them took a leap at him—a round, bulky one. He sidestepped it, half a mind on the fight while the other schemed up some kind of attack, anything to defend himself…

An idea hit him moments before another polygon did. Flipping his gloved hand over, he thought up an airplane's mechanics while the second attacker was soaring through the air. A vaguely torpedo-shaped hologram of white appeared beneath him and he was jerked forward with it as it took off. Unfortunately, it only skimmed the inexistent hair of the one he had aimed at when it ducked; fortunately, he had just realized he could create a vehicle and ride it and _boy was that fun._

Marco was abruptly dropped off in the center of them, into the hitbox of a skinny one that launched a punch at him. Magic-like sparks wreathed around both his wrists and he attacked it instead, hooking and punching at its stomach with sudden force. He managed to send it flying, and it clamored to the ground in the distance.

Some forceful garble startled him from behind, but a very hot sphere knocking him in the back brought him into it. He hissed to himself when the fire's aftermath further pained him, and whipped around to face the one that did it—one somewhat like the one he had just attacked, but larger.

More hand-to-hand attacks, the others watching like they were stunned before a third zipped behind him and fired at his burn. He responded by sending a backwards kick at it before jumping back and lashing out karate-style in the opposite direction. Both were knocked backwards, and the real fight ensued.

He vaguely spotted the walls and floor changing shape while in combat, too locked-in to notice anything but the now-large ceiling and liquidized walls reforming into a circle. But those were minor details when he realized all the things he himself was doing; forming holograms of small platforms to get a bird's-eye view, using those same holograms to smash downwards on the enemy, clasping his arms together and firing a ray from his hands like a gun, jabbing and kicking like he had already done, even lunging forward with one arm out and creating a wave of power somewhat like a slap. It was all a rush of adrenalin, laced with the occasional burn of pain and accompanied with thoughts akin to "I am probably going to die" and "holy crabapple this is awesome!"

When he hit then hard enough and when they had enough damage, they went soaring into one of the walls. They would melt into them when that happened, barely effecting the stream itself except for a slightly louder burbling.

Finally, he had knocked out all but two. The fog had left ages ago, long before he could try to ask what would happen after he beat them all. They were exhausted and he was exhausted, but the thrill of his newfound skills and the promise of victory kept powering him on. It probably energized the other two as well, though it could also be the fear of elimination…

Before he could attack, a shout with a tone like his brother's froze him. Then the entire landscape seemed to shift, and it went from a nightmarish land of black to a bedroom with a night-akin lighting. His breath locked his throat in horror at the sight of not the polygons, but Samus and Mario standing before him—beaten, exhausted, and bearing the wounds he had caused.

_He had caused._

The fact that they were life-sized didn't occur to him. Just that two of the twelve he had helped, befriended, and got into relations with now stood beaten before him. Link, Donkey Kong, and all the others were scattered in the background like corpses on a battlefield; Ness was missing, and he didn't want to know where he had gone.

Energy building up behind him made him turn around, even more breathless at who it was. Cress levitated above on his own makeshift platform, colored a darker gray than Marco's white ones, and glaring him down for the deeds he had clearly done.

"Cress…"

The lit-up platform beneath Cress' feet finally reached a maximum power, and the boy grabbed its edge before jumping down and slapping Marco sideways with it. Marco went flying with the power, guilt and sorrow and pain and old wounds all beating him down at once, and mercifully blacked out when his spine impacted into the wall.

**/*\**

Marco launched into a sitting position the moment the nightmare ended, gasping loudly for breath and sweating immensely. Aches in all the spots he'd been hit—his back, his neck, his sides, his wrists, practically _everywhere_, made themselves known very quickly. But it was still the guilt that hit him hardest, the fact that he had betrayed the smashers and ultimately his siblings and cousin.

How could he have not noticed?! They were so similar in fighting, shape, and size, as if they were built from the smasher's non-existent skeletons! The powers, the attacks, the way each flew and landed…if that fog hadn't lied to them, he would have guessed…

"Marc? Marco? Dude, you alright?"

He instinctively flinched at the sight of Cress, that slap he had dream-used still smarting against his ribs, but the worry and panic in his eyes relaxed him in that they weren't merciless and cold.

"N-no," he breathed, "I just…it was…what happened?"

Cress leaned upwards a bit from where he was kneeling and jerked a thumb in the direction of the wall—the same wall he had been thrown against, Marco recalled. "You're glove went all crazy and attacked the smashers," he explained. "It was all realistically moving and everything, though! Like someone was controlling it!"

Marco's face blanched at the similarity. "Uh-huh…yea, no, we have a problem."

"Oh great, something finally acted up," Ness' voice complained from the floor nearby. At least he hadn't wiped out_ all_ the smashers in his sleep…

It still ached to move his shoulders, but Marco managed to prop himself up against the wall and began explaining. Mario and Samus listened in as well once they were done retrieving the smasher's stuffed corpses from their various spots about the room, though were just as puzzled when he came to how he was the one apparently operation the glove—on a different scale and without knowing it, but still being the one in charge of it.

"So it was all like an illusion?" Cress theorized when he finished. "Oh yea…and I guess you're probably smarting right now…sorry…"

"Why should you be saying sorry? I'm the one who attacked in the first place!" Marco groaned, slapping a hand against his forehead.

"If it's anyone's fault, it might be ours," Mario offered. "We've never gone outside that room before, so it might have been your glove reacting to our sparks or something of the like."

"Let's just say it was everyone's fault," Ness shrugged. "…can we go to bed now? It's, like, 4:30 AM and I'm still recovering from that morph ball attack."

"A say-what-now?"

"Long story."

**/*\**

That morning was the last dawn that Harold would be seeing at the sibling's house, since the authorities deemed his house clean.

"What do you mean, 'it's clean now'?" Freya asked over breakfast.

"My mom's a terrible cook, alright?" Harold groaned. "…by the way, what happened to Marco?"

"Sleepwalking," Cress interrupted Marco's unspoken sentence.

"Really?" Freya deadpanned.

"A freak accident involving sleepwalking…and the stairs," Marco added.

"That's tragic!" Caitlyn gasped.

"Indeed it was," Cress looked into some fixated point in space while speaking dramatically. "A terribly tragic accident involving sleepwalking, the staircase, and a banana peel."

"Tragic indeed," Marco added for effect.

"…you two could totally be theatrical and I wouldn't even notice," Harold complimented before biting into his spoon.

Everything about the night was kept rather hush-hush as well; the smashers didn't speak a word, not even to Mewtwo and the other Pokémon (whom had been sleeping in the twin's room). Link, Yoshi, Fox, Donkey Kong, and Kirby were all re-sparked and didn't seem to bear any side effects of the fight, though were mildly startled when the same glove that had defeated them also revived them. And speaking of which, the frayed fabric was quickly handled by the girls—roughly three years of experience in plushy creation had taught them every kind of stich and snip that it required.

That didn't stop them from theorizing, however.

"Maybe Marco slipped on his glove," Caitlyn offered while sliding the sewing kit back into its shelf. They had managed to find all the needles but two, thus looked a bit strange as they wadded through the carpet on tiptoe. "And then fell down the staircase!"

"No, silly," Freya declined. "We were up when that happened, and I don't remember hearing any kind of teenager-falling-down-a-staircase kind of noise."

"Hmm…maybe it was the attic stairs?"

"We would have heard that, too," Freya groaned, her eyes diverting to the window. They widened upon realizing that Harold's parents were loading their bags. "Hey, Caitlyn! Harold's leaving! C'mon, we've gotta say goodbye!"

"O-oh!" Caitlyn squeaked, running out the door with her.

By the time the two completed the trip down the steps, the three boys had already made it to the front porch and were conversing like nothing was happening. Apparently, Harold had an interest in Kirby and Ness; he had sketched them a few times and listed their attacks, plus had the backstory plot Freya had whipped up.

"I still don't get it," he mumbled. "What's PSI, really? And how the heck does Kirby rip off everyone's look?"

"Uh…dark magic?" Cress offered.

"It is kind of weird when you think about it," Marco added. "And what is Kirby, anyway? He looks like the kid of a marshmallow and chewing gum."

"And a copy machine wedged in there somewhere," Harold added. "And maybe his mom had a secret affair with a vacuum cleaner."

"…you're seriously suggesting Kirby's dad is a cleaning appliance?" Marco deadpanned.

"Well yea, but HE doesn't know that!"

"What are we calling this, anyway?" Cress suddenly interjected.

"Calling what? Kirby's family tree?" Harold asked.

"No, I mean this fighting-game-thing we use the smashers for," he explained.

The autumn breeze filled in the silence as they thought up a name. The smashers didn't call the game anything, they had noticed; just "hey, the kids are doing something, let's go check it out". Good luck getting that copyrighted.

"…Dragon King: the Fighting Game?" Cress offered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Hey! What'd we miss?" Freya chirped. "And Harold, you're ride's leaving."

"It is—SHOOT! Uh, uh, s-super smash bros?" Harold stammered, sending glances over his shoulder as the car started up.

"Super Smash Bros? Like brothers?" Marco confirmed.

"Aw, why not sisters? Super Bash Sisters?" Caitlyn sighed.

"Because they thought of it first," Harold nodded to Cress and Marco.

The two boys let it sink in for a moment, how they were the ones to think of the mechanics, the maneuvers, heck, actually _opened the box f_or once in forty years…first. "Oh yea…I guess we did," Cress shrugged.

"Well…I'll see you guys later, then!" Harold waved, darting off for the car. "TELL YOU-KNOW-WHO I SAID BYE!"

"ALRIGHT, SEE YA!" Marco called after him.

"BYEEEEEEE!" Caitlyn and Freya shouted as one.

Cress stretched one arm up and waved franticly, stopping when the family rounded the corner and left. After their parents entered the house, he turned to the other three, saying, and "we really should call it that."

"Super Smash Bros.?" Freya confirmed. "I guess it does kind of make sense…it'll be hard to say really fast, though."

"But it sounds perfect," Caitlyn agreed. "Maybe…maybe the name was destined for it?"

"I think you're too quick to blame destiny," Marco chuckled, ruffling the girl's hair. "So…who wants to watch Mario, Fox, Samus, and DK beat each other senseless?"

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do."

_Beginning of 64 Era_

**/*\**

**HECK YEA! FINISHED AN ERA! TAKE THAT, LIFE! I OUTWITTED YOU! WHOOOOO!**

**Announcer: …you know, sometimes I wonder what you were like before you began typing.**

**I was a drab, boring person, Announcer. **

**ANYWAY! I'm going to ask you all a huge favor! A very good friend of mine, The One Named Light, has begun writing an AU/huge-mega-ultimate-crossover, and the only person really reading it is yours truly! It involves the characters of ****_Heirlooms_****, some good ol' keybladers of ****_Kingdom Hearts_****, a certain Mary Sue of the SSB archive, heck, even Bonnie's involved! From Toy Story!**

**Announcer: Wait, what?**

**I know, right! ****_Dairantou Saint Zerth _****also has a load of comedy and several RATHER FLOOFY moments, so I should HOPE that while I'm on my well-earned Hiatus you guys check it out!**

**Announcer: Another hiatus, eh?**

**Hey, I earned it. There were so many plot changes and so much key-clicking…for instance, in the really early draft, none of the characters were even kids and the two brothers didn't exist! It was just a whole lot of humanized companies! But I refined that and began calling it ****_Heirlooms, _****and eventually refined it so it was arranged in arches and I wouldn't be…****_cutting off…_****the Melees.**

**Announcer: Do you have something against those fighters?! But anyways, I think I can agree about your break. Hiatus after hiatus, nerd point after nerd point. Falling asleep, posting a chapter on your birthday and FF anniversary, learning that you couldn't type Italian accents, being threatened several times NOT TO KILL THE MELEES—**

**I won't, I won't, jeesh! Is anyone going to let me off the hook about that?!**

**Announcer: - getting an entire AU written for this, making loads of new friends, showing off your nerdom and lack of sanity…I'm surprised you would ever ever ever ever, EVER, ****_EVER_**** want to write more.**

**… ****(Nervous smile)…**

**Announcer: …you've already plotted another arch, haven't you?**

**I can't help it, man, I'm a walking plot carrot to all these plot bunnies and THEY'RE SO FLUFFY!**

**Announcer: Still insane, I see!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: While the Sky Falls

***'The Popcorn Song' starts playing in the background***

**Everyone...WELCOME.**

**Welcome to the start of the Melee Arch, which starts the novelization of Gamecube's most popular game...**

**Welcome to the kick-off of a whole lotta SCHTUFF, where I test my skills even more than I have in the last arch...**

**Welcome to...CHAPTER THIRTEEN.**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Thirteen: While the Sky Falls _****/*\**

_Two months later, post-Melee era_

"_Happy holidays…happy holidays…let the merry bells keep ringin', happy holidays to you…_" Cress uttered under his breath, the song having been drilled into his memory by a radio station as of late. It was only in part annoying, seeing how it was the right season.

A blaring white blanket of crisp, untouched snow beckoned from outside, but at the moment he was too concerned with more _pressing matters_ (finding the right amount of clothes, for instance). The stuff had arrived seven days too early for anyone to be dreaming of a white Christmas, but it was at least more serene than the view of dead grass and naked trees. It was also very cold, and if it wasn't for Marco "returning a favor", Cress would still be in bed thanks to the heavy layers of frost and fluff on the window.

Speaking of other siblings, Super Smash Bros. had been going along quite smoothly. The window was fixed, letting the smashers have free range over the playroom again, and good golly did that freedom count. Several different sorts of fighting were available to try out, from flat-out brawling to a series of specially-chosen fights—ending with a 'boss battle' against Master Hand. The aptly-named being was truly just Marco preforming a few damage-dealing tricks with his glove, the insulation (courtesy of the twins) keeping any burn, slash, or shot from his actual flesh. Those fights in themselves were intense—five minutes of beating down leading to exactly one victor and one looser.

Cress was startled from his laundry-hunting by an outcry of, and I quote, "OH MY HOG THE SKY IS FALLING!"

Dropping what he was doing, he darted out of the bedroom and swung open the door to the playroom—nearly hitting Ness again. "Whaddya mean, the sky's falling?!"

Sitting on Final Destination (Marco's desk), right in front of the window, was a shocked Kirby, Donkey Kong, and Luigi. Kirby's jaw was on the platform as he stared high up, Donkey Kong having a panic attack in the form of rapid ook-ing and circling, while Luigi trembled from both the chill and apparent fear of snow.

"What are you guys talking about? It's just snow," Marco asked, having paused in the hallway from both Cress darting in front of him and the pig-cursing outcry.

"'its no'? We shouldn't see it?! Is the world ending?! Have the great deities above forsaken our existence?!" Luigi cried out hysterically.

"Its _snow,_" Cress corrected. "You know, frozen water molecules that are hitting the ground."

"We're going to be flooded?!"

"Ugh, Luigi, _think," _Samus moaned. "It's like rain. Just cold, frozen, white…and fluffy."

"Oh. That's good," Luigi sighed, collapsing onto his rear. Donkey Kong did the same, while Kirby stayed as still as ice…and began to drool.

The naïve puffball suddenly attacked the window, though obviously aiming for the fluff known as snow, and suctioned himself to the glass in an attempt to vacuum the new material up. Which left him sucking the pane like a leech, licking the cold condensation but missing the snow by a mile.

"…it broke Kirby!" Ness accused.

"Huh…I guess you haven't seen snow before, right?" Marco turned to his right, where Link was polishing his shield—yesterday's brawl against Kirby left it in a slimy, saliva-coated state.

Link shrugged without looking up, continuing to wipe the metal over with a scrap of cloth Caitlyn had loaned him. To be honest, they hadn't; it never snows in the humid jungle, but it sure does _rain._

"Okay. Crisis averted? Because I need to keep packing," Cress stated coolly, turning on his heel and heading back to the room. Marco cringed as Kirby continued to suck the glass, but eventually joined him; they were leaving today.

"…Kirby, stop," Samus sighed, slapping 'his' eye visor. "You're going to hurt yourself."

**/*\**

"Why would you leave, Caitlyn?"

"Because we're visiting family," Caitlyn answered absent-mindedly. She tugged a drawer out of the dresser Mewtwo was standing on, forcing him to levitate and not be shaken off; he was used to it, seeing how she had opened the drawers several times in the past few minutes.

Her normal tank top was replaced by a longer-sleeved shirt with draping cuffs, and she was packing several in close resemblance to it into an open suitcase perched on her bed. A similar bag was zipped tightly shut on Freya's bed, but packed to the brim with things for an overnight stay—or two, or three, or five. And, of course, Pokémon plushies. Everything's better with plushies.

"I thought your family was all in this household," Mewtwo questioned, launching himself off the dresser and onto her bed with a flying leap. "Are there others?"

"Yes, my aunt in Col-or-ado," she answered, slightly mispronouncing the state's name. "And some cousins of ours…other than Harold, I mean."

"I see," Mewtwo nodded slowly as she began attempts to close the bag. "How long will you be gone?"

"Six…six…days…at least!" she strained while throwing her weight against it, only succeeding in squeezing a few objects _out. _"Maybe seven if there's snow delays."

"Oh?"

"We live in the…" she paused and looked off into empty air for a bit before recalling the information, "coastal states, which means we'll go there by plane. And we're leaving tomorrow, real early in the morning."

"…I can't be one to separate a family when they are supposed to be gathering," Mewtwo sighed, "so…may we come along?"

"W-what?" Caitlyn asked, looking up from where she had laid herself on the case. The small move initiated the click of the seal, and she looked back down with an accomplished grin.

"You should know that we cannot last without a sparker," the Pokémon explained. "And I'm sure the smashers would rather not be in comatose again."

She decided to skip asking what 'comatose' meant and went straight to her other argument. "But Mewtwo…you're a smasher, too."

"I almost am," he corrected. His mind skills had been slowly building up in accuracy and power, almost enough for them to be called attacks; with a bit more practice, he could join the others in a few rounds of brawling.

"And the other thing…I don't know if Marc or Cressy would like it," she hummed. "…maybe if Freya and I hide you in a bag or something, you can come along?"

"That seems like a good plan," he answered, nodding slowly. "I will need to inform the others of this…and you may need a second piece of luggage."

The case suddenly burst open again, throwing a few layers of shirts about the area—one landing on Caitlyn's head. "…yea," she sighed.

**/*\**

Twelve smashers with varying levels of apprehension are standing in front of Mewtwo now, and now he wasn't sure if his convincing skills were sharpened enough to bribe them into coming along.

"It sounds like a great plan and all," Captain Falcon offered, "but…all thirteen of us smashed together in a bag like a sandwich?"

"With craziness sauce and a not-gonna-happen topping."

"Ness, you sound like Cress," Luigi noted.

"What, my name, or way of speaking?" Ness asked.

"…both?"

"Yea, I get that a lot. But Cap'n does have a point," the boy added.

"Do you even know what this bag looks like?" Samus grunted.

"A messenger's bag," Mewtwo started. Being telepathic, he could tell exactly what they were thinking and answer in the best way possible; that was how he handled Caitlyn, but that was one-on-one and with total focus. Right now he was slightly nervous of them not agreeing, not to mention worried that he might be the only one willing. Putting all doubts aside for the moment, he continued with, "it'll be filled with some objects of entertainment, but there should be enough room for us all to be comfortable in."

"Hm…what level of comfort, anyway? Will Samus need to be in his morph ball?" Mario asked. Samus flinched briefly at the mention of 'his', like 'he' always did.

"She shouldn't-" Mewtwo answered before immediately pausing. Namely because Ness interrupted with "Samus is a girl?"

To be truthful, Mewtwo had known this for a while—telepathic, remember? Besides, he couldn't see how Samus was considered male; the name, the voice, even the vague shape of _her s_uit. So he didn't answer, and instead let the fireworks commence.

"…you didn't know that?" Samus muttered.

Donkey Kong gasped.

"Wait what? Wait, WHAT?!" several of the stunned fighters yelped.

Her face was hidden, but it was most likely contorted in rage. "So you're telling me that for all this time you thought I was a guy?!"

"YOU never said you WEREN'T a guy!" Captain Falcon argued.

"My life is a lie!" Luigi, somewhat ironically, lamented. "First it rains frozen water, and now this?! Next thing you tell me is that we're all actually Kirbies that don't know how to stop copying!"

Donkey Kong gasped, more dramatically than last time, and joined by Kirby. Kirby then promptly turned around and poked Donkey Kong's leg.

"Samus, why didn't you speak up about it?" Mario peeped. "Mama Mia, and I've been calling you a guy for ages! So sorry!"

"Don't, it's…" Samus sighed loudly, having turned off the robotic voice she normally used-making her deadpan but obviously feminine tone heard. "It's fine. I should have said earlier, I blame myself. Moving on?"

"It depends on whether or not you would like to go," Mewtwo finished. "But without Marco, you would go back to being lifeless…I have not experienced that tragedy, so I do not know how it feels…"

A quick pause for thought seemed like all he needed for this argument. Pikachu and Jigglypuff were by his side before he even proposed the idea; they looked to him as a leader and mentor, even if he didn't wield the skills of electricity or song like they did. Somewhat like how everyone turned to Mario during this decision, even if Fox or Samus or even Ness seemed like the better option. Mewtwo didn't know what else to call it, this strange ranking not based off power, so he referred to it as 'default'. Some might call it 'leadership', or even 'family'…

"…alright…if anyone disagrees, speak out now," he called out to the others.

"Eh, I'm good," Ness shrugged.

"Sounds exciting," Fox smirked.

"If this fails, I'm blaming Mewtwo," Samus muttered.

"S-sure," Luigi shuddered.

Donkey Kong fist-pumped the air with an excited hoot.

"That's great," Mewtwo flicked his tail in his own gesture of a smile. His mouth didn't really move, even when he was talking, so tail-movements were all he could use in emotion. "I should warn you, we will be going behind Marco and Cress' back on this."

"Whaddya mean?" Fox asked cautiously.

"They were too concerned with us getting lost, I believe," he explained once more, having a flashback in the back of his mind of when Caitlyn approached her brothers about the question. "But it we stay in the bag and don't give any hints, we should be safe."

"Well…they did say we could make our own choices, right?" Ness added.

It was true; they never put any limitations on them, just the basic house rules of not breaking anything—plus the unanimous addendum of not entering Marco's room at night, for the sake of not suffering Master Hand's unfiltered wrath. And if they decided on this themselves…

"We'll still go," Mario nodded. "So…what's the plan?"

* * *

**I COULD add a part when they sneak into the girls' room with the Mission Impossible theme playing in the background…****_dun dun, da da dun dun, du du dun dun, da da dun dun, du du—DANANA, DANANA, DANANA, DANA! _****Heh. If this ever becomes an anime, that scene will happen…and it will be hilarious.**

**Announcer: I think Light's starting to rub off on you; you think to big!**

**Hey, I can be a dreamer! …I guess that name makes sense, he's The One Named ****_Light, _****after all.**

**And WOW! The start of the Melee arch! Swordsmen and Pokémon and princesses, oh my! …and hylians and gerudos and giant turtles and bird-pilots and doctors and 2D people—YEA! ****_IN THIS ARCH, _****I'll be introducing a load of newcomers AND three new company personifications…Light, don't say anything, alright? It's a seeeecreeet…**

**Announcer: Oh come on, he knows, I know, why not let THEM know?!**

**It makes it more fun! I don't think they could guess, anyway.**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to ANYONE who can name THE ENTIRE SSBM ROSTER with…how about ****_one _****Wikipedia look-up, since HEY, there's twenty-five characters and they're hard to remember. I should know.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you'll stick around via follow/favorite button, leave a review voicing your thoughts (and earning your bonus nerd points), cuddle an Eevee, and meet me back here for the next chapter! BYE FOR NOW! **


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Family Reunions

**Bonus nerd points TOTALLY OWNED byyyy...**

**Kit the Pokemaniac (who sent a PM to me JUST for the nerd points! I have such loyal fans~)  
Starryskys102  
MissQuestions - LaAmazingNabu  
The One Named Light  
Guest (guest)  
Guest (guest...)  
**

**For the rest of us, I'll name the smashers here! Mario, Luigi, Peach, Bowser, Dr. Mario, Link, Zelda, Young Link, Ganondorf, Mewtwo, Pikachu, Pichu, Jigglypuff, Marth, Roy, Fox, Falco, Mr. Game and Watch, Yoshi, Captain Falcon, Ness, Donkey Kong, Ice Climbers, Samus, Kirby! *GASP* SO MANYYYYYYYYY-**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Fourteen: Family Reunions _****/*\**

Surprisingly, the smuggling plot worked out rather well.

The only time they were in eminent danger of being discovered is when they had to x-ray the bag, and briefly short circuited the poor machine. Thankfully, neither of the other siblings (or any of the much less understanding adults) suspected much; "It has been known to freak out over high metal," the security guard had explained. Caitlyn and her package did get the evil eye from many a late traveler, prompting her to duck behind Freya.

"Did you hear how long the flight's gonna be?" Cress complained to the others before they mounted the plane.

"We all did—"Marco started.

"Four hours!" Cress groaned. "Four hours of sitting on a seat and doing _nothing! _I mean, it's the fastest transportation and all, but jeesh! I saw a guy playing with his calculator just now!"

"…what?" Marco blinked.

"What do you mean, 'what'?"

"That last part, I mean. Why a calculator?"

"I don't know, he was just kind of…pressing random buttons? He might have been reviewing algebra, I didn't exactly _look…"_

As the two talked on, they were escorted to their seats—Freya and Caitlyn landing spots right next to each other, with their father on the end.

"Hey daaaaad?" Freya drawled. "Why do we need to go all the way out in the country? Can't we just visit Harold?" Although she wouldn't give up her pride out loud, she had to admit that she knew absolutely nothing about her distanced cousins—other than the fact that they left Colorado when she was about four and their names were Monica, Nicole, and Hikoi.

"Because…they need us this year," he answered simply. "My sister—your aunt—has recently suffered a loss. Your mother and I just want to be there for her."

"Oh," Freya peeped quietly. Lost what, though? A house? A farm animal? …a family member?

In the meantime, Caitlyn was staring out the window sickly. The safety procedures just worried her more, as this was her first remembered flight; the thought of crashing like a victim of Seismic Toss made her want to puke. So at least knowing where the bags for throwing up helped…

She changed her line of sight to her now-empty hands. The smashers were under her seat, and being the brave characters they are, probably weren't panicking at all…

…she had no idea that Donkey Kong was currently having a silent yet severe panic attack.

"Hey, Caitlyn? You look a little worried," Freya noted, turning to her.

"Y-yea, it's just…I hope we'll be alright," she sighed.

"Hey, we'll be fine! I heard that driving a car is more dangerous than flying a plane."

"It is?!"

"Uh…okay, maybe not my wisest advice…oh, I got it!"

She rummaged about in the book bag she chose for luggage. It was mostly full of reading material or notebooks and pencils, so what Freya could pull out that would keep her attention of the flight befuddled Caitlyn.

But it was to her astonishment when Freya resurfaced from the book sea with not a hardcover, but a small, felt doll only half-finished.

"You made a Pokémon…?"

"I tried," Freya shrugged, tipping her hand so the creature fell into Caitlyn's cupped palms. "There was this pile of cloth in one of the crates you showed me—right next to the one we found you-know-who in!"

She observed the 'mon-to-be, a yellow and bipedal thing just a slightly paler yellow than Pikachu. It was lacking in a face and a needle was hooked through its skin where Freya had apparently tried embroidering a black collar around its neck. It made her spirit fly like the plane was about to, how she had tried it in the same pattern Caitlyn normally did patterning in…it might have been a future gift, if it hadn't have been revealed at this crucial moment.

"…do you mind if I work on it?"

"Not at all! That's why I gave it to you, anyway!" Freya chirped. "I started calling it Pichu after it started looking like Pika, a cute name for most likely a pre-evolution—"

The entire cabin suddenly surged forward, the burst in speed signaling it had begun moving to the runway. The two hadn't noticed their warning, apparently, but Caitlyn was prepared; with a half-finished 'Pichu' in hand(s) and Freya rambling about said Pokémon in her ear, she settled in for the four long hours ahead…not to mention picked up the needle and started working on that lacing.

**/*\**

Let's skip the boring part in between, shall we? After all, that's what our next character would have done if she could defy the laws of time and space.

"Ugh…planes take forever!" a teenage girl sighs, throwing her head back so it was bent over the cushioned chair she was occupying. She tugged the long strands of dark gray hair so they joined in the hanging as well, and stared with eyes half-open at the door that lead to a plane's cabin.

Her long-sleeved shirt was branded with white and gray stripes, not to mention the occasional bit of straw from her messing around in the old barn. The dark gray, slightly torn jeans also shared this trait; the only reason her hair wasn't ridden with the yellow stuff was that long hair tended to be very, very sensitive.

"It's only been fifteen minutes, Nicole," a second, tiered-looking girl protests. She's slouched in her seat, and barely stifles a yawn born out of both boredom and her habit of late nights. Her own hair is darker than the other girl's, a blue if you look hard enough, and is currently put into a braid—ending in a rectangular clip.

She wears a much neater-looking sweatshirt patterned down the side with rectangular sequins, bearing a light blue shirt underneath. Her midnight-blue pants share the same trait of being loose, similar to her carefree and lax persona. A pair of black boots are crossed out of her own boredom, though, and one of their heels is tapping against the ground.

The third sibling, a boy, stands out against the other two and their blue and gray palettes—his Japanese facial features setting him apart even more. His attention is much more honed on the outside, where he spotted a plane just land. His cousins' flight, perhaps?

Stifling a sigh, the thirteen-year-old folds his arms and mutters something to himself. His own hair is cut straight and dark red in color, matching in with his shade-darker skin tone and black eyes. The outfit of his is made up of maroon khakis, a white polo shirt, and a pair of silver reading glasses currently hidden in his pocket. They made him look much more professional, sure, but they also dilated everything that wasn't small print like a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Hikoi?"

"What do you mean?" the boy jumped, looking over to them.

"How much do you think those four have grown?" Nicole repeated. "I mean, Freya and Cait are double the age when we first met them! And I bet Marc and Cressy are, like, a foot taller!"

"Mom did say that the twins looked a lot like us when we were four…maybe they still do?" the other sister offered.

"Hm…I guess that the girls would still look like you two…except with their personalities reversed," Hikoi pondered, trying to remember the last time he saw them—at this airport, ironically.

"Yea…Monica and Cait are probably just like each other!" Nicole gasped, swinging her head back upwards before their mother could see. She was tense the past few days, and would probably frown at seeing her daughter flopped over the chair like a blanket…

Monica sighed and rolled her eyes at her sibling's lazy antics—her eyes happening upon the vehicle that had pulled up to the side of the building. "The plane's here," she noted, breaking into a smile.

Nicole whipped her head around to look, similar to Hikoi, and instantly narrowed her eyes. Not in vengeance, but in playfulness, further apparent by the way she folded her legs in and ducked into the seat like an assassin. She only moved, and even then so she was hidden in Monica's shadow, to join her family in greeting the uncle, aunt, and cousins.

The line filtered in, and even at its slow pace quickly filled the wing with people. Monica finally caught sight of them, and raised a hand over the crowd in greeting. The young girl she assumed to be Caitlyn spotted her, tugged on the sleeve of a similarly-looking relative (Freya?), and waved back.

"Monica!" Marco laughed when the two groups finally met up.

"Marco!" Monica smiled back, briefly shooting her sneaky sister an odd look. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Sure thing! Four years, right?" Marco questioned before noticing the redhead at her side. "Konichiwa, Hikoi!"

"Hagimimashe," Hikoi nodded back, a grin spreading through his face at the familiar language. "I finally learned English, by the way! ...it's confusing."

"I know, right!?" Cress materialized nearby, startling Hikoi. "Whassup, dude?!"

"Do you need to shout so much?" Monica complained.

"Hey, it's pretty darn loud in here! Besides me, you know," he shrugged. "…hey, where's—"

"SURPRISE!" Nicole suddenly jumped from behind Monica, ringing her arms around Cress' neck and making like a scarf.

"HEY!" Cress yelped. "What gives, Nick?!"

"Santa gives, Cressy! I haven't seen you in FOREVER!" Nicole's grip tightened, and although his breath was starting to be strained, Cress flashed a smile. She was the one who gave him that stupid nickname in the first place, for being so crazy.

A timid "Hi…" both shattered their conversation and lost the subject, a quick turn of their heads confirming that it was a confused Caitlyn who had spoken up—still linking arms with Freya.

"Oh my gosh…Caitlyn, Freya, is that you?" Monica gasped. "You've grown so much!"

"We could say the same for you, ya know!" Freya hissed with half-playful venom. "Everybody knows teenagers grow like weeds!"

"I-I wouldn't say that," Hikoi stammered, blushing a bit for being talked down to by an eight-year-old.

"Seriously! You were _four _when we last saw you!" Nicole squeaked, cuddling the two in her neck-gripping fashion. She suddenly jumped back with a yelp after making contact with Caitlyn's purse, and rubbed the spot on her elbow tenderly.

"Hm? Something up, Nick?" Cress offered—the _Nick_-name being of his origin. _Something_ had to counter her persistent naming, and it made sense for her tomboy nature.

"It's Nicole…anyway, just some static," she shrugged, letting go of her arm. "Hey, we're gonna stop by MgRonald's before heading home! More reason to point out stuff in the town~!"

They chattered on, making more remarks about how much time had passed and what had happened in said time frame, not caring to notice the black tail that slipped out of view and back into the young girl's bag.

**/*\**

The other Tenda family's household was warm and friendly from the moment you walked into the door; the living room made up of a couch and several heavily-cushioned chairs, a piano against one wall and a fireplace filling the other. The kitchen was to the left of it, positioned so you could walk across a wooden part of the floor—on the way passing the downwards-leading staircase and the dining table. Even further was a sunroom, constantly filled with drying artwork courtesy of the kids.

On the left side was a somewhat congested hallway, filled with five doors. The first leading to Nicole's room, using a palette of greens and a huge window to make it feel even more alive than the artwork and constantly-on computer did. The second belonging to Hikoi's, decorated in a darker shade and by various Japanese trinkets—plus his own hobbies. The third was a bathroom, and the fourth was Monica's abode, finally leading down to the master bedroom.

Downstairs was a bit short, but made the most out of with a large TV and equally massive couch. That was where two guest bedrooms resided, currently being used by the siblings via splitting their ages; Marco and Cress to one, Caitlyn and Freya to another.

When they first arrived, the incoming family was exhausted. It also happened to be quite late at night, so there was little else for them to do but unpack for the incoming week before sleeping. Marco was doing as much, Cress having collided onto one of the beds and not looking to be getting up anytime soon.

"Yea, they're exactly like I remember them," Cress sighed. "Monica needs more sleep, Hikoi's as awkward as a Japanese-adopted-kid can get, and Nicole…is Nicole. Do I need to say more?"

"I think that covers it," Marco sighed in agreement. "But you forgot to mention that Monica is slowly becoming more like her sister and that said sister is not looking to settle down in the least. Hikoi keeps mispronouncing things…"

"…but they're still," Cress drawled before both finished at once with, "awesome."

Marco finally gave up on organizing everything and fell backwards on his own sleeping area, and the two brothers simply lay in relaxation while mentally recalling the day's events.

"…I wonder what the smashers are doing right now," Marco chirped at last.

"Probably hiding the shards of a broken vase or something like that," Cress chuckled. "Seriously, giving them free reign was both a good and bad idea. Probably more bad than good."

"I think mom's still blaming you for her broken china…" Marco noted.

Pikachu's head popped out of the minuscule gap in the doorway, budging it open just slightly. The two boy's attention were honed on the door when it moved without any apparent force, not noticing the yellow mouse as it slipped into the room—and brought something with it.

"…the door just moved," Cress muttered.

"I know," Marco answered.

"But nothing's here."

"I know."

"PIKACH—uh, hi!" Freya quickly coughed to shield her previous exclamation, smiling nervously while halfway through the door. "Hey! Yea! Uh…thought this was a bathroom!"

"O…kay?" Cress narrowed his eyes. They immediately fell in shock to Pikachu as it double-jumped onto his bed sheets, and widened even more when a certain pre-evolution followed. "Pikachu?! What the—"

"Freya, I thought we told you and Caitlyn not to take those!" Marco groaned, slapping his forehead.

"It was Caitlyn's idea!" Freya protested. "And before it was her idea, it was Mewtwo's idea! I had no idea she brought them until, like, five minutes ago!"

"Ugh! Now we need to worry about the other three finding those thirteen! And our aunt!" Marco slapped his other hand to his forehead in a double-facepalm of double-fail.

"Dude…you ought to make that _fourteen," _Cress coughed, pointing to the small mouse following Pikachu like a lost child.

"So THAT'S where Pichu went!" Freya gasped. "And what that fabric was! I get it now!"

"How did that happen?" Marco questioned, removing his hands from his face to get a look at the newly-sparked mouse. Pichu was a rather fitting name, since it resembled Pikachu so much, but he knew that nothing in his thoughts wandered in the least to electrical mice. Perhaps Pikachu had Thunderbolt it into life, like some sort of backwards Frankenstein?

"How would I know?! All I saw was that she slipped it into the bag with the smashers, and they said that it just came alive!"

"…well, it's WAY too late to take them back," Cress muttered. "We'll just have to make due, I guess."

"Did she happen to bring the gloves?" Marco asked semi-hopefully. It was a lot to ask, seeing how they were always kept in their owner's rooms—

At that instance, Caitlyn chose to join Freya at the door and hold up both of the white hand coverings.

"…I have no idea whether or not to feel very proud or just plain weirded out that you got into my bedroom and I _didn't even notice_."

"It's really easy when you stand on tiptoe."

Marco facepalmed yet again, creating a triple-deluxe fail of 'how does that even make sense?'

* * *

**FACEPALM. _DOUBLE FACEPALM_. ****_TRIPLE DELUXE 'PALM OF ULTIMATE _****_FAIL!_**

**Announcer: *Like the song 'Sail'* FAIL! Duuuun, dananananana du da dududu, duuuuun, dananananana du da dududu—**

**You're slowly becoming more like me, you know?**

**Announcer: …OH DEAR ARCEUS SOMEONE LET ME OUT OF HERE.**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to ANYONE who can name the inspiration of Nicole, Monica, and Hikoi! I won't be revealing them until it becomes blatantly obvious, so good luck!**

**And thanks for reading, everybody! I really, really hope you'll follow and favorite, and don't forget to review for your chapter-ly BONUS NERD POINTS! And please check out some other fics too: "Time Mistress", "Olimar's Experiences on Guard Duty", can I interest you in some "Dairuto Saint Zearth"…?**

**Announcer: Please stop advertising, you're making it too obvious! It's not like we have commercial breaks!**

**We might need them, if those stories don't get some more favorites…anyways, hug an Eevee and meet me back here for the next chapter! BYE!**


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Legend's Meeting

**What time is it? BONUS NERD POINT TIME!**

**Reyn: *sulks***

**Nobody except Light got ALL of them right, but the majority of you got at least one thing right: Monica is Monolith Soft! Answered correctly by:**

**Guest (need I say s/he's a guest?)  
Kit the Pokemaniac  
Ayako Zetra (Zink was right!)  
**

**But I'm pretty surprised by your suggestions: Hasbro, another HAL Laboratory character, an old Nintendo Employee...you guys are true nerd, through and through. EXTRA-BONUS NERD POINTS to you all!**

**With that out of the way, heeeeeeeere's the chapter!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Fifteen: Legend( of Zelda)'s Meeting _****/*\**

A blinding flash of the freshest white was all that she could see of the ground, a half-stirred vat of gray and silver for the sky. The wind shoving back at her face acted like inexistent worries, the cheerful whoop of "Wo-hooo!" from behind further fueling her adrenalin to keep sliding through the snow.

Not like Nicole could stop, anyway, they had gone to the steepest hill to make sure that _nothing _(including gravity) could slow this slide.

"AMIGA! I LOVE COLORADO!" Cress half-laughed, half-screamed behind her.

"I KNOW, RIGHT?! BEST! HILLS! EVER!" Nicole shrieked in pure joy.

The two mildly insane cousins had gone out early in the morning to reach some of Nicole's "recommended routes of routing", firstly because the routes were just about in the middle of nowhere and secondly because the place was due for a snowstorm later that day.

And so there they were, traveling at speeds reminiscent of a to-be-introduced hedgehog's, down one of the tallest hills, on a wooden and not entirely safe sled. Cress was clutching the edges like his life depended on it (which it probably did), but Nicole chose to thrust one arm in front in an "ONWARD!" pose. And this was what they had been doing for the past hour or so, living dangerously while the other kids hang out around the house.

"OH GOSH HERE IT COOOMES!" Nicole cackled.

"WHAT COMES?! WHAT?! _WHAT?!" _Cress gasped at the sight of a fastly-approaching snowbank.

The sled and its passengers crashed into it with a loud _CRUNCH, _thankfully that of the ice and fluff being squashed by the two. The sled kept going, however, ricocheting off a nearby tree or two before just plain going onward.

Nicole's head of silver hair popped out of the top of the snow pile first, bearing a toothy grin. "Wasn't that just AWESOME!?" she asked Cress.

"Beyond that!" came Cress' muffled answer as he punched an arm upward and into the crisp air. His body was positioned horizontally in the bank, so might as well just relinquish in the powder. "…now how do we get out of this thing?"

"Well, I can walk through," Nicole shrugged, parting the snow around her and stepping out of the bank in her slightly damp snow gear. "As for you…uh…_do a barrel roll!"_

"A what?" Cress chirped.

"You know…flip! Out of the snow! And onto the ground!" Nicole explained vividly, waving her arms in the air to further punctuate.

"I get that, but what's with the barrel roll?" he asked.

"Oh yea, it's this catchphrase a character of mine uses," Nicole shrugged. "I'm a big author, you know!"

Cress flipped himself in a rolling fashion, clambering onto the ground—and taking a few feet of snow with him. He proceeded to jump back to his feet like he tended to do after doing something rather clumsy, straightening his coat in the way a businessman pulls at his jacket. "I am a _ninja,_" he self-proclaimed.

"In your dreams…" Nicole sighed, glancing at the tracks made by their wayward sled. They lead to the side-tilted sled, of course…which was propped up on a huge, rocky mound.

"Whoa," Cress awed.

"I never noticed that before," Nicole murmured.

The hill was enormous, justified enough to be called a small mountain; rocky cliffs and overhands rudely poked out from its overcoat of snow, gray and brown dots amongst the looming white giant. If Nicole squinted, she could pick out a dark spot that looked a bit like a cavern…

"…we have GOT to climb that," Cress deemed.

"Do we have the time? That cold front should be coming through pretty soon," Nicole asked.

"But do we even know where your house is? Why not just climb this and get a view!" he protested. "It'll be _fun!"_

"I didn't say it wouldn't be fun…alright, let's do it!" Nicole agreed. Snatching the rope that lead her sled, the two climbers (or should I say, _ICE _climbers) headed up via nearby slope.

**/*\**

"—and so Ganon shoots these really cool and deadly-looking beams, it's all like, _BROMOMOMOMOM! _And they hit Link's shield like _BAM BAM BAM!" _Freya narrated excitedly. "So then he's all like 'oh man, there's only one thing that could beat this guy!' and digs into his bag—"

"Okay, okay! Just slow down a minute!" Monica chuckled, her fingers a fast blur as they moved about the keyboard.

Monica's bedroom was just short of Nicole's for having the most art and plotlines; watercolor paintings of fields and dungeons, pencil maps of locations and enemies, size charts of said enemies…it was her own personal art studio.

It made sense, since the two often worked together when story-making; Monica plugged in all the locations and boss fights while Nicole made quick work of the characters, from arrow-shooting angels to gas-filled money hogs. But what really caught Freya's eye was the unfinished works, the ones where Nicole just couldn't find the right main character and/or Monica didn't have enough inspiration for another unique world.

So she filled them in with the smasher's lives, instead.

She explained that Caitlyn and she had a few "leftover ideas" not involved with their immensely important Pokémon game, and started off with the story of Link. Monica took off with the idea, and found him a great candidate for her other ideas—one involving time-travel, another having something to do with a creepy moon, and yet another being the very idea she was typing up at the moment.

She had to dig deep to find the old scraps of the previously hero-less ideas, though; a dress-garbed princess now known as Zelda, a dark-toned 'Gerudo' dubbed Ganondorf, and her original hero for the first part of that time-defying journey—one that stunningly mirrored Link, but half his age, thus earning the title Young Link.

All three felt toys were now propped about her computer, the bulky processor of the writing weapon covered with other various props: a round flute known as an ocarina, a miniature sword in an equally-sized pedestal, a fairy prop that was literally a blue ball with wings, three unique masks resembling three equally-unique species, and an especially large and creepy-looking mask with nearly luminescent eyes.

…"propped" is too strong a word, "covering the system so it no longer looked like a computer" was more like it.

"And so he screamed, in exact words, '_NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'_!" Freya dropped to her knees dramatically before falling forward, making a guttural sound to further confirm that Ganon was dead.

"…how many 'O's were in that?" Monica asked.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Caitlyn was absentmindedly biting down on an apple as she stared worriedly at the gathering clouds outside. They were reminiscent of a huge dragon's silvery scales; a huge frost dragon, perhaps, about to encase the land in its snow-making breath. Even more worrisome, Nicole and Cress were out there somewhere…

…the whole situation gave her an idea for an Ice/Dragon Legendary Pokémon, but that's off-topic.

A near-silent clatter of wooden objects barely connecting drew her attention from the window to the sunroom. Marco and Hikoi had disappeared into the room about thirty minutes ago, Hikoi carrying a wooden board something alike a chess board under his arm. Neither had emerged for all of that half hour, leading her to believe it was a game of chess.

What lead her away from that belief was that Hikoi constantly narrated stuff that sounded nothing like the narration of a chess match.

She finally let her curiosity overcome her concern, and walked into the normally light-bathed room to investigate. I say "normally" since, because of the heavy cloud cover outside, the windows all around were more of a dark silver than a blinding white.

The sunroom, in itself, was somewhat faded from all the exposure it received. The short carpet could be either a gray or a green, and the recliner in the corner could be either teal or mint. A tall, stuffed-to-the-brim bookcase in the opposite corner was made of dark, out-standing wood; but even that beautiful finish was slowly wearing away to a drab brown.

Marco and Hikoi had the board in between them, but Caitlyn noticed that it wasn't an ordinary game board. For one thing, it was fully unfolded, taking up all of the table and hanging off the edge at parts; the two boys were actually sitting on the window ledge to play on it. But another thing was the immense about of stuff _on _the board; trees, rivers, homes, convoys, a castle, grasses…not to mention the armor-garbed figurines used as avatars.

"Alright…lance beats sword, so…Cain should move _here,_" Marco decided, slidding a character on horseback to meet a brutal-looking swordsman.

"Clever; you defeated him," Hikoi deemed, swiping the character off the board. "And the rest of your fleet…?"

"What are you guys doing?" Caitlyn chirped, approaching them.

"What? Oh, we're playing Fire Emblem," Marco answered. "…it's kind of hard."

"It was _really _hard to come up with, too," Hikoi noted. "And don't get me started on how hard it was to translate all the dialogue to English…"

Marco smiled knowingly. Hikoi was adopted from Japan a decade ago, back when the boy was around four; having been born and raised in a Japanese culture, it took him an eternity to learn the native language—in speech and in writing. Nicole and Monica knew a bit of Japanese and helped to translate before Hikoi learn to speak English, so it turned out well…even if his craft in itself had mixed dialogue.

"It's snowing."

"Huh?" Caitlyn asked, looking outside again.

"it's snowing," Hikoi repeated, "and those two still aren't back."

"Probably lost or something," Marco sighed. "Should we send someone out—"

The door leading to the outside suddenly shot open, sending a freezing-cold gust of wind into the already-chilled room. Cress and Nicole, red in nose and covered in snow, stepped in next; panting like they had just ran a marathon.

"Made…it!" Nicole declared. "There was this HUGE mountain, you see—"

"REALLY high mountain!" Cress added.

"—and we had to slide down it at, like, a million miles an hour to get here, then we had to put the sled away and make it here and it was like GAH! I'm tired," Nicole fell forwards, Cress closing the door behind them before leaning on the frame.

"…uh…" Hikoi stammered.

"At least they made it back! …unlike in the Snowstorm of 2005," Marco shuddered at the mentioning.

"And by the way, we saw a bear!"

"WHAT?!" Caitlyn jumped. "Tell me more!"

Cress launched into an in-depth description of their trek up the mini-mountain, gathering all of their attention, while Nicole smiled to herself and began imagining two parka-clad climbers doing the same.

**/*\**

Wind rapped on the nearby panes to outside, like a child shoving their face against a window when wanting to come back in. Snow playfully bounded off of it as well, creating small tapping noises along with the pressing blows. But that was all the noise made in the silent household, spare for one Hylian's boots as he walked across slightly creaky wood.

Link had set off for exploration after confirming that none of the family was watching, and had so far made it up the steps and down the hallway a little ways. The other smashers had gone about their adventuring, be it to hide in the shadows and nooks even the best-built house carries or right into the open while everyone slept. Link was the first one to head blatantly upstairs, mostly since his hookshot was the only object that could make it, but there was always the likelihood someone else had followed him.

Now he was strolling down the hallway, unknowing of the three cousins and parent that resided along it, observing the place while searching for anything of interest.

This was one of his favorite parts of adventuring, simply taking in the glory of ancient ruins or lively fields or _whatever _he chose to venture in. And who knows; maybe he'll find some clue as to what Nintenna's fate could have been here.

Link stopped at the entrance to one of the rooms, where the door was peeped open and revealing a dark void within. Fate lead him to enter this unknown area and investigate it, and he saw that it was actually a bedroom—with someone sleeping inside.

The bed was placed in the center of a wall, so that the right side was open and the other was against the wall. A dresser sat in one of the gaps it made, a lamp sitting atop it, and several folders were stacked up in the other. On his direct right was a desk with a large, ancient computer, as well as several stunning sketches; on his left, a bookshelf filled with similar paperwork. A window was perched above the bed, showcasing the whirling snow and twirling frost, though not shedding light on anything else.

As Link crossed the threshold of the room, the back of his right hand began to throb—not enough to be painful, but to know that something was there and something was up. He glanced to it, instantly noticing the symbol that illuminated in gold.

…his Triforce had never done this before. Come to think of it, it really didn't do anything, and no one had ever noticed it because he kept it safely hidden under a glove. So what could it be doing now?

While he was transfixed on it, he noticed the song of an instrument fill the air. He let his arm drop and listened to it, a soft, strumming melody with a slow enough pace to sleep to. His ear twitched in interest when it was joined by an equally soothing voice:

"_Pae, nashudu…_"

Ignoring the strengthening pulse of his hand, he headed towards its origin—the desk.

_ "__So-rei, ie-thu…"_

He stood right below it, where a shadow-hidden figure was singing lightly to the music.

"_Dae, hiro….dae, hiro…" _the being stopped, and Link found himself leaning forward in anticipation of more. They seemed to be struggling for the right…syllable, or whatever else it might be called in the strange, word-lacking voice they used.

Something gasped harshly from nearby, capturing his awareness yet again and keeping it away from the voice. It came from underneath the desk, close to one of the short legs holding up the large shelves beneath the actual tabletop; a bit high in pitch, like that of a girl's or a child's.

Link gave a short hum of curiosity and slowly approached the spot from whence it came, assuming it to be a wayward house pet's or even a lost smasher. He crouched on a bended knee to peek underneath, meeting eyes with a pair of unfamiliar, bright blue orbs.

The wide eyes widened further, and the being stepped deeper into the gathered shadows—a small pinpoint of blue light behind it illuminating some sort of extension off its head. Maybe a fin, or hair, or even a hat.

The two stared at each other, one in curiosity and one in surprise, until Link finally raised his hand in greeting. The other's eyes glanced to it for a pause before it approached out of its hiding place—making Link's eyes widen.

It was a young, seven-year-old boy wearing a grass-green tunic that hardly reached his knees. An equally green, elongated hat covered most of his dirty blonde hair—and accented his long, pointed ears. A wooden shield looking like it had been ripped straight from a tree's bark hung on his back, decorated with a red swirl; a sword of equal size was sheathed behind it.

And the most amazing thing of all was that it looked like a child version of himself.

The boy and Link engaged in a staring contest again, not even noticing the soft thud of someone landing nearby them as they were too busy coming to terms that there was a younger/older version of them. The blue light peeked out from over the boy's shoulder again, insect-like wings slowly flapping to keep it suspended as it, too, joined in; only a slight cough from their side dragged their attention away, and Link stood up to meet the newcomer.

A young lady stood straight and regal, cloaked in a dress that was purple on the chest and white from the waist down. Golden shoulder pads further increased the royalty feel, along with the forehead-covering tiara over her long, golden hair. Elf ears like the two boys stuck out especially since there was no hat to blend in with them; altogether, she just gave the feel of a princess.

Link stared in surprise for the umpteenth time that night, a striking feel of familiarity washing over him. Somewhere, somehow, he had met this girl before…and she was very, very important.

A familiar name stood out, as well. "…Ze…l…da?" he quietly whispered. It was the most he could manage, and the most he had ever said out loud and to anyone instead of a battle cry for a long time.

The woman's eyes widened, and she paused before nodding slightly. The princess was a bit stunned that a complete stranger should know her name, especially since she felt like she had just learned it; this unfamiliar warrior knew her more than he knew herself, in a nutshell, and that was a very peculiar thing.

In the middle of their meet-and-…sort of greet, an unusually loud _thud _brought their eyes to the door. A dark figure, seemingly wrapped in shadow himself, casually stood up with his back to the group and walked out the door. His presence echoed unease and fear, and seeing him leave to where defenseless beings slept was even more unnerving; so unnerving, Link found his fingers clenched.

The boy grunted for attention, and was rewarded with the older two's; he grabbed the handle of his sword and pointed to the door, illustrating that they should investigate him.

Link and Zelda exchanged a glance before nodding and heading out as a trio. Unaware of the dangers that lurked the night, or even of most of the group's names, but brave enough to investigate anyhow.

* * *

**This...is going to be…the most fun night…in Heirlooms history.**

**Announcer: What makes you say that?**

**THIS IS WHEN PEOPLE START MEETING, MAN! We're gonna meet-'n-greet SO MANY PEEPS on this night, it'll be AWESOME! All split up into parties, like Subspace Emissary or something! NEWCOMERS, YEA!**

**Announcer: Sounds interesting…I wonder where I've heard of splitting into parties before…? **

**If you're talking about Childish Dreams…I gave up on that story. At least, for now. I didn't find it fun (compared to THIS *gestures to Heirlooms*) and that means I can't find the encouragement to update, plus I had no idea where the story was going, but THIS…THIS, I like!**

**Announcer: So basically, what you're saying is "Sit back and enjoy the fireworks, folks!"**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who knows what defeats Ganon in the first Legend of Zelda, knows who Cain is and/or what FE game he's from, or can at least vaguely recognize the song Zelda sings! I'll give you a hint to that last one: it's probably the only game where Zelda sings ****_at all _****and it's the same song she's singing when Link first meets her…come on, Zetra, you got this…we have a book taking place in that game…**

**Announcer: The last time you asked to give her an answer, she kind of failed—**

**WELL IT WAS A VERY BAD QUESTION AND IT WAS VERY POORLY WORDED! Now be quiet, I'm talking to the fans.**

**Announcer: *Pouts***

**Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you review, follow, and favorite before checking out some other awesome fanfics, be sure to check up on Light's crossover "****_Dairanto Saint Zearth", _****hug your Eevee, and be back here for another awesome chapter! See ya for now!**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Altea, Pherae, Mushroom

**Before we launch head-first into this SUPER GARGANTUAN CHAPTER OF ENORMOUS PROPORTION, let's answer some BONUS NERD POINT questions!**

**And those that got 'em right aaaaarrreeeee...**

**Ayako Zetra  
Ruby (guest)  
MissQuestions - LaAmazingNabo  
Kitsune-taicho (guest)  
Guest (guest...)  
The One Named Light  
and Kit the Pokemaniac!**

**Zelda was SUPPOSED to be singing Ballard of the Goddesses, but it's kind of hard to compose music into a piece of writing, so I guess it might have sounded like Zelda's Lullaby to some of you. AH WELL!**

**Ganon is defeated with, and I quote from Kit on this one, a SIIIIIIILVER ARROW! In the first one, anyway...I am not the best nerd, don't get angry with me.**

**I myself spotted Cain in Shadow Dragon first, but he was apparently in Mystery of the Emblem too? WELL THEN! Look what I learned today!**

**FINAL SIDE NOTE: Ruby, that guest I mentioned earlier? Yea, you there, Ruby! You got it right! Hikoi is representing Intelligent Systems! I found the name off of a Japanese name website when searching for one, and as far as I know it means "bright prince" or something similar; makes sense since pretty much every FE main character is royalty, right?**

**...except Ike. And Robin, I guess.**

** MOVING ON!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Sixteen: Altea, Pherae, Mushroom Kingdom _****/*\**

"Mario, are you sure we're headed in the right direction?"

"Not quite, Luigi, but I think I'm close," Mario stated, entirely focused on the dark path ahead of them.

After spotting Link ascending the staircase to the unknown, Mario had gone after him; Luigi had tagged along as well, seeing how nothing terrible interesting was going on downstairs…other than the fact that Captain Falcon had learned how to operate the television.

They had lost the Hylian far before even making it to the top, his hookshot much better at reaching high ledges than their jumping—even when using the old jump-on-the-head trick. They had headed into one of the doors at random, seeing how Link wasn't in the hall; that lead them here, in a very dark room with only the faint light of the doorway to illuminate its gaping blackness.

Not to mention they went wandering inside of it, and were now lost entirely.

It really didn't help that nearly every stack of paper in the room looked exactly like the other—it was an intricate maze of lead-covered pages or teenage mess. Mario was squinting into the darkness while Luigi followed exactly one step behind, often running into the older brother when he stopped. It was getting annoying, already adding up to the fact that Luigi jumped at every sound…even if he sort of did that, too.

"What's that?" the green-clad plumber twittered nervously, hopping back a step and jabbing a wavering finger towards a particularly shadowed bend in the road.

"It's just another shadow, Luigi," Mario huffed, letting a large amount of monotone cover his speech. This had to be the fifth jump…

Luigi's eyes went wide when the hidden thing twitched. It seemed to rotate from a vaguely circular shadow to one with…limbs…on the underside; two piercing, red-colored eyes slid open on where he assumed to be a face, and what would be the equality of a mouth (or jaw) split open with a light hiss.

"D-do shadows move?" he questioned.

"Probably not," Mario sighed, continuing on their quest while Luigi hugged his shoulders and stared in fear at the _approaching _shadow.

"Marioooooo…MARIO!" Luigi yelped as a scorch of hot substance nearly lit his rear, fleeing from the _running _shadow and jumping onto his brother into an upper-body bear hug.

"WHAT IS IT—WHAT IS THAT?!" Mario hollered, throwing his brother off before going wide-eyed at the beast.

Another jet of flames spewed from its toothy jaws, illuminating the yellow skin of its face. Something wavered unsteadily with the force the fire gave, like a loose fin or even hair; the brothers were too busy to notice, seeing how something was _breathing fire right at them._

Mario suddenly jerked out a strange, jar-and-pipe system from hammerspace and braced it so the clear, water-filled jar was against his back. A bit of sloshing later, and a jet of equal size to the water leapt out of the pipe—meeting the pillar of fire head-on and extinguishing it with aqua.

The fires receded, leaving a large scorch mark on the (thankfully wooden and not carpeted) flooring. The beast's eyes lit up in amusement, and a voice as rough as the fire itself spoke up:

"You brothers are good…that was my best fire right there!"

"It talks?!" Luigi squeaked.

"'it' happens to have a name, meatball-head," the creature growled, making Luigi jump.

"And that name would be…?" Mario quirked an eyebrow.

The beast briefly turned around to ignite a nearby sheet of scrap paper; creating a flame background that illuminated its ivory-spiked, emerald green shell, flame-red mane, iron-studded gauntlets, and beefy form. "Bowser, King of the Koopas," it cackled, "also known as your doom!"

"Not unless Mario Mario and Luigi Mario can stop him!" Mario promptly declared after the eye-catching introduction, tying on a mustard yellow cape briefly to further heroically narrate his declaration.

"_AND _Luigi Mario?" Luigi confirmed.

Without any further villain and hero naming, they engaged. Bowser's sharpened claws and heavy slams made for a great opponent, also adding in the element of fire to keep the brothers on their toes. But they themselves put up a rather nice fight as well—green and red fireballs, super-jumps and uppercuts, Luigi's strange missile and Mario's watery machine (the F.L.U.D.D., for future reference). The three put on one nice show when battling together, to the point where outcries and war charges covered up the sounds of a certain dark villain walking down the hall; not to mention the three smaller footsteps that trailed behind him.

But we'll get to those four bearers of the Triforce later.

And just like the last encounter, this one could only be stopped by one person. One bringer of peace, one bearer of tranquility, and one breaker of fights—also, in this scenario, baker of cakes. And that one person, or shall I say princess, was currently overlooking the fight from the perch of a bedpost.

"Oh, how rowdy," she sighed with a delicate enough touch to put Bowser on hold—if he wasn't currently countering two heroic plumbers. "But really, why must they fight like this? They should know that Nicole is sleeping!"

The two-against-one fight continued, neither aware of the lady who floated down on her quite lofty, practically neon pink dress. She stepped within range but still out of sight on heel-tipped feet, bringing up a beautifully fabricated parasol to block a wayward flame or two. Her oceanic-colored eyes glanced from this side to that, looking for any sign of an early stop to the battle—her practically gold-woven hair swinging around to meet the turning head, their curly tips further increasing her signature look.

Seeing how no stop was in sight, even to greet the newcomer, she did the _practical _thing to do:

Pitch a toadstool-headed boy into the fight to see what happens~!

"WHAT THE-?!" Mario shouted as a pale-skinned, black-eyed, human-like thing wearing white overalls and a red, white-dotted, very bloated cap crossed his line of fire with a yelp of its own.

"WHAT IS THAT?!" Luigi gasped, clasping his fist to dismiss a slowly-building fireball at the sight of the toad-headed interrupter.

"What…?" Bowser trailed off, sharpened eyes following the strange creature as it bounced off the wood a few times.

"Oof! Ow! Youch!" it fittingly squeaked upon each bound of the floor. "Your majesty, must you be so rough…?"

"Whoopsies! I guess I threw a _liiiitle _to hard!" came a high-pitched apology from the other side of the field.

All eyes, human and reptilian alike, were drawn to the bystander like moths to a lightbulb—ignoring the capped boy as he darted back to his mistress. The woman standing there just smiled back innocently before fixing them all with a slightly playful glare.

"Now, you three should be careful! Nicole is sleeping, you know! We might scare her if we wake her…" she scolded, the cheeriness of her personality seeping into every word.

At that moment, Mario's jaw dropped open.

**/*\**

_Light._

Just _look_ and _feel_ at all that light…

It soaked into his body as thick and wonderfully as water, even past his coverings—even when some of them shined the light right back. It was rejuvenating and plentiful as water, too; though something told him it could reflect off the water, like it was jealous of the life-giving liquid.

But this was more comforting and easier to withstand than any old dip in a water collection, especially since the very thing life needed also tended to drown life out. But this…this, he could bask in for ages.

Until it got onto his eyes too much and forced him to blink.

With a strained, weak mutter, he protested against the unnaturally bright light to wash over his face. He turned his head to look away from it, even when his neck and practically every other fiber of him was numb and asleep. So numb, he couldn't tell if he actually _had_ all his limbs at the moment. The thought forced him to attempt movement, which he in turn reacted to by turning on his side.

Which in turn made something on his shoulders stay stiff and clatter on the thing he was sprawled on, as well as made something attached to his back flutter with his rotation. An object on his waist rubbed against whatever was beneath him, creating a much louder scrape that signaled something rising upwards to move with him. And altogether he couldn't really feel his chest, which worried him most; was he even _breathing _at the moment?!

His summer-sky-colored eyes shot open at the thought. Even when he wasn't entirely sure what breathing was, the though scared him in such a way that he could tell he needed to breath—it was important, apparently. The light that fell onto him from above also fell on a lot of spots nearby him, highlighting a drop-off from the light brown substance beneath him to the darkened land beyond. He could tell he was above that land, on an elevated platform that ended with this straight edge before him. He could tell nothing else, and decided to focus more on why he couldn't currently feel the surface of his midsection.

His shaky hand, partially cloaked in a fingerless glove, reached up and pressed against his upper chest. Something hard stayed put but lightly pressed back, ensuring him that it was a _covering _on him and not his (thankfully unfrozen) ribs. He let the hand drop and looked over to his side, instantly noticing the blue covering on his shoulder that extended outwards and thus didn't _let_ him see his side. But he could see a bit past that to his legs, covered with a pair of white khakis, and see the dark purple cape wrapped over them and the large object jutting from his side.

Curious, he sat up and removed the long object.

It was a sword's sheath, some instinct of his told; the handle jutting out of one end was the actual sword's handle, and he could further confirm after tugging it out slightly that the incredibly sharp and dangerous sword was inside.

He pushed it back in and looked around at the space around him, spotting a comfortable bed against one wall and a tall containment of clothing articles. He was in a bedroom, on a desk—and he could spot the red-headed resident very nearby, his glasses pressed against the tabletop along with the rest of his head. A light snoring told him that this boy was asleep and need not be awakened.

After confirming that feeling had flowed back into his legs, he stood up and glanced at the first thing that had his attention: a stand large enough to hold him up, with a large ink-infused title written on where he assumed he would be facing. Apparently, he himself had been standing in that, his chest plate against the semi-circle that would prop up his lifeless form. But now that he actually had life (some instinct telling him he didn't at a point in time), he would much like to look at that ink and find a title of some sort.

ロイ, it read. Roy.

…that name sounded so fitting, he wouldn't be surprised if someone from another world had specifically chosen it.

Roy looked over those symbols several more times, committing the name to memory. Names are rather important, after all. He glanced up to the slumbering teenager on the desk, peacefully unaware that one of his creations was looking over itself proudly.

…_his _creations? Roy was crafted by _him_?

The fifteen-year-old briefly glanced up at the hair spilling over the top of his eyes, noting that the shade was actually rather similar to the boy's. In addition, a quick jog over to the paper the napping person was half-laying on revealed that the language he had been writing in shared a strong similarity with the one on Roy's base.

If it wasn't for this boy, he wouldn't be alive in the first place.

"…arigato." Thank you.

As if the stunning realization that he was facing his maker wasn't enough, something else in the room began to clatter. Roy whipped his head upwards, clutching the sword's handle in case the disturbance was dangerous and needed to be attacked. A quick look around the room drew his eyes to the small cabinet with many small, stacked draws—one of which being the source of the noise, and from the way it shook so violently, how could it _not _make sound?

Unfortunately, it was halfway across the room. Fortunately, Roy's maker had a good definition for the word "organized".

He jumped up onto a nearby paper stack, then quickly darted to where the stack met the wall. A few attempts at skidding later, he finally managed to slide it in the direction of the drawers—taking the first layer and a few others with him. They fluttered off in their separate ways, unlike the first; Roy had to drive his sword into it to keep from flying off as it zoomed to the other end of the room.

This kept his attention off where he was actually going, which was above the shaking drawer and _straight_ into one above it.

After slamming against and peeling off the surface rather comically, his descent began; thinking fast, Roy threw his hands out and snagged the handle. The weight of him pinned it downwards in the middle of an upwards lurch, and something banged about from inside. Something groaned after that, a human-like voice, and something else clattered slightly—like an object being shoved off.

"He…hey! Naivido…nadigesca?!" he shouted, straining over the force it took to hold onto the handle.

"Hai!" came the voice from inside—masculine, but with a lighter tone than most. "Tascede kudeskai!" Whoever it was, they couldn't get out alone.

Thankfully for them, they weren't alone.

Roy waited for something to press against his edge, as light as someone leaning against it—exactly what it was, evidently. They spoke a quick plan in their shared tongue, eventually finding something that would work and not disturb the slumbering person in the room. The chat was fast and exotic, something telling Roy that it was a different language than that which was usually spoken—whatever it might be.

But they did come to a conclusion, and Roy began to throw his weight from against the box to outwards; meanwhile, on the inside, the trapped person braced themselves at the opposite end of it. It began jerking back and forth as Roy tried harder and harder, to the point where his arms stung and he was gasping for breath.

But at last, the other person charged from his spot; slamming against the wall as Roy jerked it outwards, nudging it so about a fourth of the drawer was pushed out. Several of the items inside had come along, however, which lead it to about half; and the light density of it helped it stick out even further, which, in turn, tipped it over _just enough _to come crashing onto the floor.

The drawer and its contents hit the wooden floor with a loud crash, somehow sending Roy onto the person he assumed he helped to free; the chess pieces hitting the floor everywhere also added to the noise.

The person at the desk snorted loudly, and both he and the person beneath him gasped silently at the worry of being spotted. However, he only turned in his seat into a different sleeping position; thankfully only a bit more awake and not actually aware. The person beneath him sighed, lowering Roy as he sighed in relief as well…until the realization that he was on top of a complete stranger hit him and he was completely obliterating their personal space.

Roy promptly jumped off with a flustered outcry, quickly looking back with an apologetic (albeit awkward) frown.

The young man he had helped shook his head of light blue hair, propping up the golden band he had in it halfway; the concealing cape of equal blue, embroidered with a design unlike Roy's emblem, entirely hid the stranger's backside. He stood up into a straight posture, which Roy hadn't even noticed until he realized that his own form was kept rather proper and thus expected it. Furthermore, the seventeen-year-old was wearing shoulder armor and a light blue tunic rimmed in yellow; a belt holding the sheath to a golden-handled sword was firmly tightened on his waist, and his dark marine pants folded into his tall boots at the cuff.

"S-sorry," Roy stammered in apology. "Are you alright?"

"Yes…thank you for the help," the stranger nodded his head slightly, adding grace to the thanks. "May I have your name?"

"Roy," he introduced.

"…only Roy?" the stranger questioned, curious as to a last or even middle name.

"Only Roy…I do not know any other name," Roy sighed sadly. He knew no other name he could be called but the two symbols meaning 'Roy' on his holder…

"I am sorry…I suppose I can sympathize," the stranger smiled sadly, "since I know no name at all."

"Did you find a base?" Roy immediately asked.

"A base?" the nameless teen asked.

"Yes, a circle of wood with a metal holder?" he described. There could be a shot at knowing this person's name, even if it was just a first name like his own.

"I saw something alike to that…" the stranger turned to face one of the objects that had hit the floor nearby—a device used for standing up figures with no life.

"Yes, just like that!" Roy smiled, stepping towards it. "My own stand had a name on it; your's probably does, as well!"

The stranger smiled and they both walked over to investigate it; an ink similar of that to the one scrawled on Roy's base was standing out below where the stranger would have faced, large and black and slightly odorous with an odd chemical.

And that writing held the symbols that translated to 'Marth'.

"Marth…" the stranger—Marth—sampled the name. "It sounds…right."

"Very," Roy agreed. "You would not believe who wrote them-…"

Roy stopped when the sound of two voices came within hearing range. One held a Brooklyn accent, the other a slight American, and they were approaching the door to the room—along with their owners.

"Who are they?" Marth whispered.

"I am not sure…but they might wake the boy," Roy warned, pulling his sword so it stuck halfway out of the base. "We may need to fight them."

"Must we? They most likely don't even know…" Marth pleaded.

"…hey Falco, do you hear something?"

"Somethin' like what?"

"Something like…voices," the first speaker muttered.

"Yea…I heard somethin' just a moment ago…" the second, named Falco apparently, drawled. "From in there…"

"It's too late now," Roy murmured. "We could only knock them unconscious, they don't need to be killed…"

Marth nodded and slowly unsheathed his own blade; a blade that gleamed silver, even in the faint light, and was eye-catching enough to draw the stranger's attention as well.

"Hey, there's something in there!" the Brooklyn speech slightly echoed in the hall.

"We'll be able to take it," the other comforted. "Now, let's just see what it even is…"

Four warriors, two medieval and two intergalactic, leapt at each other and clashed. One Hikoi, finally jolted awake from blasters and swords, lifted his head and spotted four inanimate objects quarreling.

* * *

**NAUUUUUGHGH JAPANESE IS HAAAARRRRRRDDDD *Faceplants into desk*.**

**Announcer: *Casually reading magazine nearby* Yep. That's because it's a foreign language, buddy.**

**It was still ****_hard! _****The underlining is much easier!**

**What I find weird is that despite me trying to limit myself as to squeeze the vs. Ganondorf fight in, it still doesn't make it! Darn poetic style…it not only gives me a headache, it's really hard to keep short!**

**Announcer: *Flips page in magazine*.**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who knows the three kingdoms in this chapter's title, Marth's actual Japanese name, or what I was referring to with the whole 'baker of cake' thing! Fire Emblem nerds, UUUUUUUUU-NITE!**

**And thanks for reading, guys! I really hope you'll send a review telling me how this chapter went, or at least follow/favorite to keep track of this action! And PLEASE be sure to hug those Eevee, especially in such a tense moment as this one! …but please don't suffocate them, because then I get legal issues.**

**Announcer: *Flips page* they still want you to pay for that Eevee's funeral, by the way. And they're getting persistent.**

**But LIVE DANGEROUSLY and HUG THOSE EEVEE anyways, I'll see you next chapter! Bye!**


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Three More Amigos

**ALRIGHT THEN! Bonus nerd points go tooooooo...**

**Jen (guest)  
MissQuestions-LaAmazingNabo  
Kitsune-taicho (guest)  
The One Named Light  
LovingTogetic  
J.C. Doggendoodle  
and Spencerdoodl!**

**Altea is Marth's kingdom, as the prince; Pherae is Roy's kingdom, as a duke the last time I checked; and, of course, Mushroom belongs to Princess Peach!**

**Marth's real name in Japanese is Marusu, often shortened to "Mars". The anime couldn't get his English name right...**

**Lastly, Peach's cake! First starting in Super Mario 64, and one of the main supporters of the "The Cake is a Lie" joke...CURE YOU, GLaDOS, CURSE YOOUUUUUU!**

**...oh, you guys are wondering why I'm holding up this shield? Well, as of late, ChocoChipKitty has had a strange obsession with hugging me since I consider myself partial Eevee...I really should have seen this coming when I invented that catchphrase...**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Seventeen: Three More Amigos _****/*\**

"Marco…Marc…Marco, Marco Marco Marco—"

"HEY! Marco Polo!"

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Sure, there was the oddball kid Marco would meet whom upon hearing his name would crack a joke about him responding to 'Polo'. He tended to ignore that tease, but if a relative was using it, he would either kindly ask them to stop or to be informed of the dire situation—depending on the mood.

Based on the tone Nicole and Cress were using, this was obviously number two.

"What happened and how long until its fixed so I can sleep again?" he muttered through a mouthful of pillow. "You know, like what people _normally _do at…five AM in the morning."

"They found them."

"What?"

He jerked straight upwards, staring at his brother's grim face and not caring about the aftereffects that rolling through sheets had on his hair. Cress' normally optimistic grin was replaced with a thin-lipped frown, giving him the second sign that something was up…and he would not be sleeping anytime soon.

"They found…you know, _them,_" Cress shyly admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Or Hikoi did, anyway."

"Oh great…this is gonna take a while," Marco sighed, falling back into the pillow.

**/*\**

After being alive for a whole hour, Falco could already tell that he did not like tight spaces.

Something furry was dusting his beak, something metallic was laying on his tail feathers, and someones' breath was breathing down him on most sides. The cardboard box they had been trapped in wasn't all that ventilated, either, so it was just him, Fox, and the two foreign strangers.

He couldn't see the boy while defending himself from a sword, so how was he supposed to see him get up, approach a nearby box, and flip it overtop them like one does to a small rodent? Then, as if the sudden darkness wasn't discombobulating enough, the side had rushed up to meet them as the boy scooped it up. Then he had turned it, and closed the flap lid, and suddenly everyone was everywhere…

Heck, he didn't even know. He was a bird of prey, and having darkness pulled over your eyes was pretty much an all-out stop lever. Worst of all, it was everywhere and not just over his head; he had panicked the first minute inside the box, not sure what to do or anything because it was _so dark…_

…not to mention instituted the idea that he was a total coward.

Voices wormed into their four-walled prison of surprisingly strong paper, starting up again after a few minutes of silence.

"You must have been hallucinating, Hikoi, that isn't possible," a calm, gentle one dismissed.

"I didn't!" an accented voice groaned. "They're right in here!"

"He's right, Monica, they really are alive!" a young girl chirped. "He can prove it, and then Marc and Cressy can explain!"

"Please don't call me thaaaaat…" someone a distance away complained.

"Cress! Marco!" the one named Hikoi greeted. "Y-you can tell me what happened, right? How are Roy and Marth alive?"

Someone next to him stiffened, and Falco imagined that the other one did, too. But those names sounded masculine; he could have sworn one of them moved with the grace of a female…

The ceiling above them divided and folded outwards as a boy with messy black hair opened the lid, his eyes surprised but immediately spotting Fox. "Fox! Dude, what were you doing? …and who's this?" he asked.

"It's a long story…but he's Falco," Fox grunted, pointing his thumb to Falco without looking.

The two had met up when Fox was investigating the hallway and Falco was in mid-retreat from a fight between two guys and a huge turtle. Between the lines of their sarcastic and cocky remarks, they had apparently agreed to stick with each other during further exploration—how that even happened, heaven knows, the two were as arguable as night and day. Then they investigated that red-headed boy's room after hearing an enormous crash, and upon meeting the two from ancient times had started a fight.

All of this was explained by Fox to the four kids who looked like they knew what they were doing—the other three were grinning like a deranged maniac about to kill, had her lower jaw on the floor and eyes out of her sockets, and were holding a conversation with his creations in roughly that order. The interrogation was in the twin's room, in the basement, as far from the parents as possible. Namely, on a desk, with the kids in varying areas nearby.

"Yea, yea, backstory, backstory, backstory," Falco kindly interrupted during Fox's overly detailed explanation of the fight. "Can we just get the scoop on who you are, what WE are, and where we are…in time?" he added, unsurely glancing to Roy and Marth.

"Rude," Fox breathed.

"Basically; we have no idea! Not-so-basically…" Cress sighed before continuing, like he was explaining how something worked to a child.

"Okay, so your fabric is this certain kind of material that can hold something called a spark, which is pretty much what makes you alive," Marco explained instead. "That spark is fueled by thoughts about your personality and backstory, and is constantly fueled by sticking around a sparker—like me or the girls."

"How long have the girls been sparkers?" Cress muttered.

"Caitlyn got lost in the airport and she said that the smashers were still active…when you were like, five hangers away!" Freya bragged.

"Y-yea…what she said…" Caitlyn mumbled to herself, blushing.

"So wait…what you're saying iiiiiiiis…you can make stuff come alive?!" the one dubbed Nicole squeaked, grabbing Marco by the shoulders and shaking all her excitement into him.

"Somewhat, apparently…you said it was a fabric, right?" Monica hummed.

"Neaugh…yea…" Marco sighed dizzily, falling over from both being shaken like a snow globe and basic lack of sleep.

"Cool, right?" Cress smirked.

Hikoi looked up from his talk with Marth to intervene. "But I didn't show you Roy, and I assume Nicole didn't explain Falco, either…how could you have done that?" he asked.

"That's what I was wondering," Marco stated. "None of the girls, either…"

"It might have been because your smashers were around!" Nicole deemed. "If sparks act like electricity, than it should spread like static to other things!"

"That was how Pichu came alive, with a bit of thinking from me and Caitlyn," Freya added.

"That was direct contact from all thirteen of us! I didn't come near Falco, he came to me!" Fox protested.

"Electrics only work from about ye," Monica held her hands up the length of the average pencil, "far away, and I assume that you and Falco were about a room's width apart…Hm…"

"Speaking of rooms and stuffed toys and stuff like that…where's this giant turtle you mentioned? Or the other smashers?" Nicole asked.

"Come to think of it, when I woke up, Ganondorf, Zelda, and Young Link were gone…" Monica added.

"I can explain!" shouted a deeper voice from the edge of the desk.

"Oh, hey Cap," Fox greeted casually as a man wearing spandex walked onto the scene. "Where ya been? Because now all the kids know."

"Eh, around," he stated vaguely. "Anyway, the Pokémon were just upstairs; Mewtwo teleported ahead of the two mice, saying that Mario, Luigi, and someone named Bowser were coming—along with a princess."

"Bowser and Peach?! They're alive?! WHOA!" Nicole flailed, tripped over a plushie, and flopped backwards onto Caitlyn's bed rather comically.

"Any sign of Link?" Fox asked.

"Nope," Captain Falcon shrugged. "Hopefully he didn't get caught somewhere again; he's usually pretty puzzle-savvy, but still."

"Link…bearer of the Triforce of Courage…is real?" Monica whispered to Freya.

"Yea," Freya nodded. "I should have told you about that detail, but…"

"No, this is great!" she smiled. "I could ask him about his journeys—maybe he did travel through time and we just never knew!"

"Good luck with that, since Link's kind of mute," Cress muttered. "At least, I haven't heard him talk."

"He can talk, he just doesn't like to," Fox protested.

"Well, from what?"

Fox and Captain Falcon glanced to each other secretively, a look that Falco picked up on. Whatever happened, it was a sensitive topic…

"That's…off topic. Anyway, he'll be fine," Captain Falcon waved her off. "It's not like this place has any kind of enemy, anyway."

**/*\**

To him, this place was full of enemies.

Young Link tailed behind Zelda, where he would be ready to fight any back-attacking enemy; his older self, whom he presumed to be Link, was leading up front if they encountered anything. Zelda stuck to the center, tracking the dark person through her own means and silently pointing in the right direction if they came at a crossroads.

In fact, all three were relatively quiet. Maybe it was because of the suffocating, tense patience all were holding. Maybe it was because no one had anything of importance to say. Maybe it was because they were afraid someone would hear.

But to Young Link, it was the clear: he didn't know _how _to speak.

Having been stowed away in a bin or drawer or something similar for the majority of his fabric self's existence, he hadn't picked up on the local tongue while unconscious. Unknown to him, being out in the open air or at least within contact of someone was how a smasher could talk the moment they were sparked; he didn't get that opportunity, though Zelda might have.

…Zelda was a nice name. Link could have known it though any means, heck, maybe the two even knew each other. Young didn't know. He could tell that he never met a princess in his one-night-lifespan-well, he did, but that was normal Link and that would cause a space-time continuum…right?

Having an older version of yourself is confusing.

Zelda hummed a very brief note, catching the other two's attention. She turned to face Link, then Young Link, then pointed sideways into a shadowed part of the floor—

Scratch that. An immensely oversized staircase was at their right, complete with wooden banisters that towered beyond all of their heights combined. It lead downwards in the direction it faced for a few steps but turned and headed into darker oblivion for the rest of the way.

…dungeon?

He had the immense want to call it a dungeon and an even stronger desire to explore it. He was born and bred for this sort of thing, nearly all of his thoughts (had he known) based on the image of a brave knight venturing into the darkness. It looked as if his older self had this same desire; Link didn't take his eyes away from the drop-off and instead stared into its shadow-veiled corners, poorly hiding his own urge to explore it.

Just as they were about to step towards it, two small pinpoints of light slid open from the top of it. A man tall in stature, his figure only hidden in the shade by his dark-palette clothing, stepped out—his rough-edged cape fluttering slightly behind him. His skin was a dark shade of olive and his hair was flame red, shortly-cut but formed into two sideburns on the sides of his jaw. Black armor with gold emblems covered his shoulders, hands, knees, and the back of his neck, and the rest of his clothing was either leather or patterned in a unique, rustic way. A literal dark aura surrounded his fist and a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth, just enough so that he looked quite battle-ready.

A grating yet in its own way beautiful slide of metal-on-leather arose from Link's back as he pulled the Master Sword from its sheath, and he proceeded to hold it threateningly in front of him in preparation to fight. Small, sparkling flecks rose and gently fell from Zelda's palms as she held them open and still, quickly growing into the raw form of magic as she clutched them into fists. Young Link's fairy, Navi from what he can remember, briefly sped around to his side as he prepared his own sword and shield; wood and rough metal, but they were quite efficient.

Both parties (one made of three, one made of one) lunged at each other with four war cries. Zelda and the sorcerer made contact first, slashing and punching and throwing—all maneuvers made of either light or dark magic, canceling each other out with a fizzle of burnt air upon contact. They kept going, Zelda's grace against his strength, until he spotted Young Link coming in for his back.

In a near instant, he kicked Zelda's legs out from under her—letting her fall with an outcry to the floor—and turned on Young Link, lashing out and grabbing the neck of his tunic. Young Link gasped in shock, his sword still outstretched and just barely nicking the enemy's elbow. Not in surprise at the clasp, not in frustration at his near-hit, not in concern of Zelda's fall, but in fear at the horrible reeking of evil wizardry that remained within those hands. It was strong enough to overpower his own courage, or at least only briefly; the evil man grinned wider at his response before throwing his three hand as a darkness-coated fist.

It made contact and sent Young Link flying back a few feet. It also left the man open to take the brunt of Link's slash, the sword cutting into the man's side and surprising him. He growled and took on Link while the other two were getting up, metal clashing repeatedly as the two dueled—one with bare hands.

Zelda shook herself briefly before glaring at the man and darting for him, managing to slip behind and ignite the space in front of her (his back, no less) on fire.

He shouted in outrage, taking the energy to kick Link away and attack her with a large mass of purple fire just to hear her cry out as well. The two went at it again, with occasional interruptions of Link to keep them even, while Young Link got his bearings back.

The Hylian boy eventually did, just in time to hear Zelda scream.

With the two so worn out, it took only a brief gap in her defenses for him to send one last punch at her; accordingly, she was flung far and hard. She didn't hit the ground, or the banister, or one of the others, or even the furniture. No, she was thrown right off the edge of the staircase, through two of the fence's useless railings and into the oblivion of downstairs.

He stared after her in shock. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. How could someone that skilled in battle and graceful in the air just _plummet _to their doom like that? It wasn't possible! At least…he hoped it wasn't…

She wasn't coming back up. Clearly, it was.

Enraged, he picked up his sword and charged at the sorcerer with a loud war cry. Luckily, he was taking on Link. So this time, he had the satisfaction of stabbing his sword right into his back.

The man's scream was a lot less high-pitched than Zelda's as the sword pierced between his shoulders, right below the actual armor, almost straight through him. Link paused and backed up a few steps as he unsteadily tottered towards the same fate as the princess. Young Link joined his side while he shoved him backwards, towards his end, towards where Zelda was hopefully alive…

…but he made sure that they would all join him.

Roughly snatching Young Link's wrist with one hand and fearlessly gripping the Master Sword's blade with the other, he jerked backwards so that they were all headed into the oblivion. It didn't matter that his hand was now cut, or that there was an oversized knife wedged into his back (he ended up jerking it out as he thought of it, no point in leaving it there), or that they he was going to die. What mattered is that they were _all_ going down now, wherever that fair maiden had turned up.

Young Link was panicking, screaming as the two heavier characters fell past him and he was left to fall in a bottomless void. All the way down, he was afraid, yet some small voice at the bottom of his head told him it would all be fine. He mostly ignored it.

And Link simply closed his eyes, blocked out the maniacal laughter from the evil falling beneath him and the hysterical outcry from his younger self above…and smiled ever so slightly, for Marco and Cress would be meeting Young Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf soon enough.

Meanwhile, with a figurine laying on the floor, three flashes of gold and three distinct noises came from overhead. The flash was as bright as sunset's dying light, and the noises like a faltering call of power-off. Three stone-and-metal figurines landed nearby her, softly padded by the carpet.

* * *

**Okay, before you guys all get hysterical, THEY'RE NOT DEAD! Seriously! I promise! C'mon, all of you should know that a flash of light and weird, video-game-generated sound means that a smasher was defeated! It's in the Subspace Emissary!**

**Announcer: I wonder if you're gonna get fired at for their defeat, though.**

**At least EVERYONE was defeated and not just Ganondorf…**

**Announcer: Maybe you'll get fired at for that, too.**

**There's a rite called 'freedom of speech', buddy.**

**Thanks for reading, guys! Please hit that follow/favorite button and leave a review on the way out, it really helps to hear feedback! And make sure to meet me back here next time, chapter eighteen, it's gonna be FUN, I promise, hug your Eevee and I'll see you then!**

**Announcer: Aren't you forgetting something…?**

**Oh, right! BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who gets Falco's reaction inside the box or that time-traveling journey Monica's been ranting about for a while now! The first one is bird science, the second is Zelda nerdom…I happen to have both skills!**

**Announcer: Since when have you been a professor in bird science?**

**Since I had a pet cockatiel…and found out I had an allergy to cockatiels. Also when researching chicken wings!**

**Announcer: …*Double-take*…****_WHAT?!_**

**_Kid Icarus _makes me do strange, strange things, Announcer.**


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Out Of the Ball Park

**Nerd points, nerd points, falalalalaaaa...**

**Announcer: Well! Someone's got a melody today!**

**No joke, we spent a full five minutes between classes trying to sing random songs. And since this is kind of a comedic day, WARNING: INCREDIBLY UNSERIOUS CHAPTER AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**Bonus nerd points go tooooooo...**

**Ayako Zetra  
and ChocoChipKitty!**

**...uh...wow. I guess I really was obscure.**

**Depending on how you look at it, Monica could have been talking about either Ocarina of Time or Majora's Mask - both of which involve turning back/turning forward that clock. And by that, I mean they abuse the space-time continuum to no end.**

**BIRD SCIENCE! Predatory birds (like hawks, eagles, and _falcons) _have a tendancy to hold very, very still when they're eyes are covered.**

**Announcer: STARFOX SCIENCE! Falco is based on a pheasant, not a falcon.**

**...whoops. _I faiiiiiiled...badly..._**

**Announcer: No kidding. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT PLAYING VIDEO GAMES, REE.**

**Ree?**

**Announcer: Ree. Zetra wanted to know. I call you Ree, and so does Light. I don't think anyone's called you Vee, though...**

**...huh...Ree. It's a change, I like it.**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Eighteen: Out of the Ball Park _****/*\**

Nicole dug through the stacks of paper in her bedroom, trying to find the missing smashers. She hadn't turned up anything but a plotline burned to ashes ("AAUUUUGH WHY BOWSER WHYYYY?!" was her exact quote upon finding it) and a stray Toad currently sitting on her shoulder ("AUUUUUUGH oh hey I know you!" was her quote upon finding _him_), both evidence that the wayward characters were within her walls at _one _point in time. Maybe just not right now.

Now that she thought of it, it was pretty high time to clean up this bedroom anyways; she had already found so much stuff by just rummaging around looking for other, more important stuff. That one cherubim statuette, a spaceman with a homemade helm, the plotline to one of Fox's half-scrapped adventures, and a blank paper, for instance. She was going to need to throw them away eventually, but…

…they were so important to her! The angel was THE main character in a minor series she had tried (and very badly failed) to maintain, that space captain was going to be very useful the moment spring turns their way, that plotline wasn't entirely junk even when it was actually based on another, and…can you imagine what you could DO with a paper this high-quality? So beautiful…

"Miss Nicole? Are you going to stop staring at that paper now?" the Toad chirped into her earlobe.

"What? Oh. No! I'm gonna set it here to obsess over later," Nicole decided, flicking her wrist and sending it vaguely in the direction of her desk.

Also in the vague direction of her desk was an overstuffed, yellow-clad doll, a boy who lived amongst animals, and several other very much lost objects. She was not good at throwing on target.

One room over, Hikoi's to be exact, two boys were waiting at the edge of a minor gap in the wall for a red-haired swordsman to return. Hikoi was on one knee and Marco was flipping through a stack of papers, Marth pacing between them and sending occasional glances into the crack.

Actually, 'flipping' was a pretty poor description for what Marco was doing: he was avidly reading through every script and quote, impressed by the story of Marth. He had found it laying around at one point during the wait and hoped it could help him "seal" the prince himself.

That was the term they had come to use, "sealing a spark". It made sense, seeing how after every battle they would spring back up to life even after being knocked into oblivion. Like doing whatever Marco did put some kind of wax seal on them, only broken if a misfortune was to leave their physical form in ruin. At least, that was what they had hypothesized. No one had come close to death after Fox's mouse incident.

Footsteps—several pairs—from inside the wall brought their attention back. Roy emerged from the darkness and shook the dust off himself before being greeted by Marth, the two exchanging several words in the strange, rapid language known as Japanese.

"What is he talking in…?" came a familiar, Italianized accent from inside.

"Mario! There you are!" Marco sighed. "We've been looking for you all morning!"

"Did we make you? Sorry…" Luigi muttered squeamishly as he, Mario…a princess, and a giant turtle walked out.

"Wow…it's been hours, and they still don't fail to impress me," Hikoi awed.

"We were found out? Exactly HOW LONG were we in there?" Mario asked Roy.

The swordsman shrugged in response. A strange thing about Marth and him, they had noticed, was that even when they could very clearly _understand_ English, they didn't _speak _the language. Whether this was a flaw in Hikoi's design or just a side effect of their lifeless forms being exposed to Japanese mutterings, nobody understood.

"Blame Fox," Hikoi peeped.

"Blame accepted," Bowser snorted. "By the way, who's Fox?"

A shrill scream erupted from some different portion of the house, turning all heads out the door. It sounded distinctly like Caitlyn's, but what monstrosity could pull a scream out of the girl…?

Hikoi and Marco offered their sleeves to the smashers (Hikoi having learned the hard way what happens when they make contact with bare skin), the six quickly boarding and making haste to hide behind their shoulders before they took off to the source of the location—at the foot of the stairs.

The other kids were already there; Nicole shouting a quick word of "Yea, everything's fine!" upstairs in response to the parent's questioning. Monica and Cress looked on from a higher part of the steps, paralyzed in shock with their mouths agape. Nicole was standing on the basement floor, looking confused over the heads of the two girls as they…cradled…

"Oh dear gosh," Marco uttered.

**/*\**

"WHADDYA MEAN, THEY WON'T COME BACK?!"

"I'm trying the best I can, they're just not _reacting_!" Marco groaned before slamming his head into the coffee table in defeat—thankfully far off from hitting the four statuettes sitting upon it.

They had taken the statues and gathered the smashers in the "sitting area" of the house, namely in the basement's far side. The kids were sprawled on the enormous sofa as they tried to bring them back to life: Cress had tried with his own magic (and failed), Freya and Caitlyn had attempted to harness their inner sparker (and desperately failed), and now that Marco was out of tactics it was clearly time to panic.

All the smashers surrounded Link, Zelda, Young Link, and Ganondorf in a half-circle, the newly-crafted incredibly concerned yet having no clue as to why everyone was so upset. The "veterans", as Freya dubbed them, were in incredible distress at seeing their fellow fighter and three perfectly good warriors reverted to this state. Basically…

"Why, Link, why?!" Luigi sobbed.

Yoshi bumped his snout against the Hylian again and again, wondering why his fellow green-clad friend wasn't reacting when he was standing up and looked perfectly colored-in.

"Who could have done this?" Mario growled.

Pikachu nosed at Young Link's boot, curious.

Jigglypuff was weeping madly as Peach desperately tried to soothe her, though ultimately having her dress used as a tissue.

Captain Falcon was in a philopiser position as he tried to think, his thoughts mostly centered around the fact that Link now had a nemesis…and a girlfriend…and a younger version. As if three swords weren't already enough.

Fox was gaping with his jaw wide open at them, and Falco had been assigned to get him back online…somehow.

Kirby plopped onto his rear as he stared up at the menacing Gerudo, but was ultimately scared into hiding behind Link's frozen leg.

"What. What. What what what what WHAT WHAT," Ness stuttered like he had been doing for the past couple of minutes.

Samus sighed in disappointment and hung her head; looks like the hero finally got himself killed.

Donkey Kong stopped his persistent pacing around the unfamiliar princess, slumping in a dizzy daze as he tried to reconfigure his senses.

"…you know, I heard that Nicole made a Medusa character once," Freya said softly. The two girls were grieving on the couch, Caitlyn still sobbing while Freya had reverted to a quiet state. "Maybe she turned them to stone."

"I don't think it's stone, it's more of a plastic," Monica protested. "…but they're still lifeless."

"No, they are not."

"They're still alive?" Cress asked, raising his head out of his hands to stare at Mewtwo with his eyes full of hope.

"I can sense their minds to be active," Mewtwo answered simply, "so they ultimately are still alive—like they were defeated and reverted to this material instead of cloth."

"That's good, I guess," Marco spoke through the table. "But how do we wake them back up?"

"I am just as lost as you are with that one."

Everyone sighed in hopelessness. An elongated period of silence quickly followed, only interrupted when Hikoi commented, "it looks rather awesome when you float like that."

"Hm?" Mewtwo turned in midair to face him, genuinely confused.

"A lot like Magneto, don't you think?" Monica added. "From N-Men? That one series made by Larvel?"

"What?" Mewtwo continued to ask.

"He is a lot like him. Calm, collected, knowledgeable…their names even start with the same letter," Hikoi pointed out.

"What are you two _talking _about?"

"…let's show him later."

"Yes, let's," Hikoi nodded, sharing a fist bump with Monica.

"…what just happened?" Mewtwo blinked.

A loud tromping down the stairs signaled far ahead of her own greeting that Nicole had entered. "Hey guys, how's it…going…?" she chirped, mild confusion entering her tone at the sight of Marco with his head on the table, Cress flopped over the back of the sofa, Monica and Hikoi slouched into the cushions and smirking, and the two girls gazing sadly at the four Legend of Zelda characters.

"Not good," Cress answered—not directly to her, since his face was in a couch. "…my stomach hurts so badly right now from being in this pose. This probably isn't good for the couch, anyway, a bunch of pressure on the backing and all…"

"Same…but it's my forehead," Marco groaned through the wood.

"Nah, I think the table actually likes that."

"What makes you say that? It's a _table."_

"Furniture has feelings, too," Cress protested, stroking the couch like it was his pet.

"Okaaaaaaay…" Nicole exhaled loudly as she spoke, slouching and generating a small thud from the board she held.

"What do you have there?" Bowser grunted, raising an eyebrow.

"Found it while I was looking for you," she answered simply, walking around the couch and setting in upon a previously empty spot on the table. "I have no idea WHY I made it, but it's—"

"A baseball field!" Ness gasped in joy, his fist pumping into the air above when he recognized it. "And it's _glorious!"_

"I wouldn't say glorious, but—"Bowser's words were promptly ignored by Ness' baseball ramblings.

"Can you imagine it?! A million fans in the crowds, waiting anxiously as their favorite team—or player—steps up to the plate, brandishing his signature baseball bat and about to send a signature baseball far out of the coliseum! And can you imagine the pure joy showed in their cheers as it soars into the crowds, and one lucky lunatic snatching it into his glove with a happy cheer of 'I got it! I got it'?! The advertising cries that walking vendors send to the audience, some choosing to snack on the delicacies as they carefully note their favorite team's moves?!" were some of them.

"…Ness? …should I call a doctor? Do you need medical attention…?" Mario trailed helplessly, desperately sending a glance to the others for help.

Samus waved the sport-enthusiastic boy off with, "Let him have his rant. There's no cure to sports fever, anyway."

"…_I SHALL USE THIS FORCE FOR THE GOOD OF OTHERS,_" Nicole stated broadly, staring into the distance heroically.

"What force?" Monica chirped.

"The force…of the BASEBALL FIELD. It will solve world peace."

"I don't think it's all that good if it turns people into baseball-rambling zombies…" Faith raised a finger and let it fall, staring at Ness while he continued to document his second-favorite pastime.

…his first favorite? Fighting off aliens with mind powers, of course. What did you have in mind?

* * *

**Announcer: Ah, I love the smell of a good fourth-wall break in the morning.**

**Technically, it wasn't a wall break…and it's afternoon...eh, whatever.**

**Announcer: The mood was kind of weird, though; first you make us crack up, then you make us somber, and then you make us crack up again? Mood swing much?**

**Oh, Announcer~ *pokes Announcer*, you just don't understand girls!**

**Announcer: …I don't think anyone understands ****_you_****—**

**It was more of a humor chapter, anyway. Next time, we'll get back into ****_sewiouz buiznezz. _**

**Announcer: So serious, you need to put it in italics with a retainer lisp.**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to anybody who knows who that "cherubim statuette", "spaceman with a homemade helmet", "overstuffed yellow doll", or "boy who lived amongst animals" was! Hints, hints, uh…how about a musical number!**

**Announcer: Wait, what?!**

**_~Again I will go soaring through the sky…my enemies, I dish 'em up in a stir fry!~_**

**_Pulled out again, we'll follow you alone. Today once again we'll carry, fight, multiply and be consumed…~_**

**_~Who's that magic girl living in the haunted mansion? "_****You'd better know my name, because it's ****_ASH-LEEEEY!"~_**

**_*_****Insert guitar-playing dog's song lyrics here***

**Announcer: …you are a mystery, Reev. A true mystery.**

**Thanks for reading, everybody! I hope you'll hit that follow/favorite button on the way out, we're almost to thirty people! THIRTY! And please remember to leave a review voicing your comments, be it only for nerd points or just to give advice! I love them, even when it floods the e-mail I use!**

**Announcer: Seriously, what the heck is with that second one? What kind of lyrics are those?!**

**Ever heard of the band "Strawberry Flower", Announcer? Nice group. They make some sweet music. **


	20. Chapter 19: Stop, Drop, and Barrel Roll

**The Bonus Nerd Points go toooooo...**

**The Dimensional Reader  
Sparklegirl808 (guest)  
Delta (guest)  
Kitsune-Taichou (guest - lots of guests!)  
AShinyBlueMew  
WildWithin  
ChocoChipKitty (formerly Kit the Pokemaniac, she changed her username!)  
Spencerdoodl  
and The One Named Light!**

**Announcer: I thought we established his name was Light! Unless he wanted a cool paradox. I guess that would work. And GOOD HEAVENS, would you look at all the guest reviews. It just...it just makes me feel all warm inside...**

**I thought you were a disembodied voice and thus didn't HAVE an inside?**

**Announcer: ...this is why I'm not sentimental...**

**The characters, not in exact order, were Pit (possibly Pittooey, as Kitsune mentioned), Olimar, Wario, and the Villager. I can't believe you guys have the _audacity_ to believe I inserted my favorite character in the history of ever as just an overstuffed doll...**

**OUI! A handful of you asked! Strawberry Flower is a band in Japan that created the song 'Ai no Uta', which was apparently even more famous than the actual game they made it for - Pikmin 2! In fact, if you get twenty of each Pikmin color in one group so it totals 100, you can hear them singing the first part!**

**Announcer: In English?**

**In Pikmin-speak. But it sounds ADORABLE!**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Nineteen: Stop, Drop, and Barrel Roll_****/*\**

"So you call it a 'brawl'?"

"We call it a 'Smash', but you're close enough."

Nicole set her chin on her hands, mouth a straight line and eager to see what they have to show. Hikoi studied the location intently, an old birdbath they had laying around in the garage, most likely questioning their choice of a playing field if the smashers really could perform attacks like they bragged about. Monica held a smile as she stood next to Marco, both of them facing a lineup of smashers itching for a fight.

"So!" Cress clapped his hands together, one covered in a glove. "Basically, you drop in two to four smashers to fight against each other; the more they get hit, the more tiered they get. And the more tiered they get, the less guard they have. The less guard they have—"

"Get to the point, Cressy, we don't have all day!" Freya complained.

"My name is Cress—the point is, they eventually get launched through the barrier. There's a weird magical property thing with it, because once they do, they get knocked out—unless it's a stock match, but that's a whole other story."

"Golly gee! Stocks, Smash, team, sudden death, how do you all keep track of this?!" Nicole huffed, her expression becoming one of confusion.

"Eh, the announcer keeps reminding us," Cress shrugged. "Anywho, boom!"

Hikoi jumped backwards quite a bit after Cress snapped his fingers, but it wasn't from the noise alone; the cement dish's surface was suddenly etched with dozens of bizarre and eye-catching patterns, arranged around several large jewels embedded in the stone. A half-circle of strange yet wonderful plant life was in place for a background, and a shimmering water suddenly filled and overflowed inside of it. From the way the streams disappeared before they hit the ground to the floating platforms above it, everything was stunning…and the moment the glass after effect of the shield dissipated, it looked all the more beautiful.

"Wow…" Monica awed, head turned to see why her siblings had suddenly gasped.

"Yea, it's pretty and all. We get it. Now where's the fight?" Bowser complained from his spot, perched on Nicole's shoulder ever-so-gracefully. And by that, I mean that his bulky shell couldn't stop wobbling and he had to tuck in everything but his head just to fit on the girl's shoulder.

"But it looks too nice to wreck…" Caitlyn protested feebly.

"Hey, it's all an illusion," Cress pointed out. "…it's a nice illusion, but it's just an illusion."

"Alright, Captain, don't fail me now," Marco muttered, having chosen the F-Zero racer to demonstrate.

"Will do!" Captain Falcon saluted. "I haven't tangled with good ol' Sam in forever!"

"The nicknames are rubbing off on you," said bounty hunter groaned. She leaned on one foot while standing on Monica's rubber-glove-coated hand with a bit of boredom, if anything.

The kids stood around the arena, three impatiently and four in wait.

"…oh yea, we left Announcer at home," Freya blinked.

"OH! Oh. Whoops," Cress chuckled awkwardly. "Here, I'll improvise." After clearing his throat and putting on a deep accent, he declared, "THREE!"

Marco dropped Captain Falcon, the illusion making him drive up in a racecar and get out before it sped away.

"TWO!"

Samus slid off as Monica tilted her hand downwards, and disappeared briefly so she could appear through a gate of light on the platform. Because, you know, classiness. Calm before the storm and all.

"ONE!"

The two braced themselves and faced each other, Samus placing her free hand on her cannon while Captain Falcon's arm shook menacingly.

"GO!" Cress declared.

To the untrained eye, what happened next was a blur of fighting maneuvers and abilities as fast and flashy as two spinning tops clashing against each other. To the trained eye, like those of the smashers-to-be gathered around the area, this was a demonstration of power against each other—clashing and clashing again and again, backhanding before straight-on attacking after defending right before countering.

Falco's birdlike head flicked back and forth to keep track of all the action, his nonchalant face easing into an excited smirk as he found himself mentally routing for one or the other. "Now this…this is what we're talking 'bout!" he commented to Fox as the fellow animal pilot joined him. "I don't even know what to call all this!"

"We call it Smash," Fox shrugged.

"Kind of a boring name, don't cha think?" Falco huffed.

Fox raised his paw, let a few seconds pass, and pointed it to Samus as she was sent flying off the battlefield. A burst of light somewhat akin to fire lit up the area, and her form was sent flying out of the arena. "That's why," he elaborated.

"Whooo!" Nicole cheered, pushing off the desk and spinning a few times via wheeled chair. "Now THAT was an adrenalin shot!"

"Quite the scene," Hikoi smiled. "I could barely keep track, I don't even know how they could!"

"Oh, we don't," Captain Falcon shrugged.

"What?"

"We kinda just roll with it. Someone punched you in the face? Punch 'em back!"

"Aw, well someone's gotta fill in for her now that she's out!" Falco squawked. An idea hit him and he broke into a sadistic grin.

Fox caught this action and his eyes widened. "Dear gosh what are you planning—"

Falco, suddenly and without warning, leapt off of his spot to the top of the barrier. He fell through not as himself but in an A-shaped space ship, and promptly leapt out so it could take off into the background.

"HE STOLE MY ENTRY!"

"You wanna try?" Captain Falcon smirked, bracing himself again.

"Heck yea! Show me _your_ moves!" Falco snarked.

"HE STOLE YOUR CATCHPHRASE!"

"Is this allowed? I mean, he's only a few days old and all," Monica whispered to Marco.

"Relax, I sealed him yesterday," he murmured back. "Besides, we ought to see what Nicole got him geared up with!"

The two shared a grin before turning back to the fight to watch the fireworks…literally.

Falco pulled out a blaster and shot several rapid, percentage-raising blasts at the captain while he was still a distance away. He reacted by lunging forward in his, I quote, "Falcon KICK!", knocking the bird in the legs and sending him back a bit.

The two engaged in a hand-to-wing combat, powerful and slow versus weak and rapid, occasionally catching the other's fist and throwing them so they could get a head-start on the next round.

One such instance is when Captain Falcon pitched Falco halfway across the field, then came in for a sliding kick. Falco, predictably, jumped up and let him slide right underneath him.

"That all ya got, Cap'n?!" Falco taunted.

"I'm just getting _fired up!" _Captain Falcon narrated, encasing his fist in flames. "HERE I COME!"

"STOP STEALING MY STUFF OR I WILL CONTACT A LAWYER!" Fox yowled.

Marth and Roy stared longingly from the other side of the field, admiring each kick and punch placed. Their mini combat with Falco and Fox had taught them of all these maneuvers, and every once and a while Marth could pick out a tactic that was used against them.

They weren't yet one with the group like the others, mostly because of a language barrier and a lack of understanding. Even the veterans like Mario eventually wandered off after trying a conversation and receiving foreign speech. So far, they had stuck with Hikoi and the other kids for company, furthering the idea to the smashers that they didn't _want _to be with the others.

"Marsu-kun."

Marth glanced over to Roy, who was eyeing a certain spot on the fellow swordsman's belt. He looked down and spotted that his hand was wrapped around Falchion's handle, and was being held there quite firmly. It must have wandered while he was lamenting their relations…

"Why don't you try?" Roy offered.

"What?" Marth blinked, stunned.

"Try and participate in the fight," he elaborated. "They aren't taking any physical damage, and you look a bit eager to try."

"Roy, how could I harm them?" Marth sighed. "I don't want them to dislike us for inflicting pain…"

"They hold no grudges," Roy dismissed. "Or, at the very least, after the fight. It looks more like a game than anything else. Besides, if they did hold back hatred, wouldn't half of their league be glaring at the other?"

Marth processed the words with his own thoughts. It was true that these games seemed to end the fights rather than create them, a sort of stress-relief or training exercise. Maybe, if he could just show them how well he held his own…

"Alright…I'll try," he nodded. His worried face was finally replaced with an at least partially cheerful smile. "Wish me luck…"

Roy nodded and grinned. "I might actually join you, if you don't mind."

"Of course not," Marth said. "It would be nice to have a sparring partner, or at the very least a familiar face on the battlefield."

"Even if it's on the opposite side?"

"You said so yourself; it's a game. Now let's play."

**/*\**

If bragging rights were a bank account and victories were the cash, it makes sense for a lot of wins to generate a lot of interest.

Marth and Roy were finally accepted into the company thanks to their skills in battle, and it was becoming apparent that a secondary clan of fire-wielders was forming within the ranks. It might have been the strange tactics they used—which can only be described by the terms Freya invented, "L-cancel" and "wave dash" being amongst them.

And, of course, there was the exaggeration Ness was doing for the only one who hadn't seen it, Samus.

"Seriously, what happened? Everyone tells me a different story," Samus complained to Donkey Kong.

Which lead to a tall tail in the language of Kong, ultimately leaving the poor, space-traveling mercenary with a headache.

Meanwhile, upstairs and in Nicole's room, Cress and Hikoi were trying to hide the place they dubbed Fountain of Dreams.

"Here?" Cress offered, sliding it under Nicole's bed. After a mini orchestra of crunching paper, squeaking dolls, and toys colliding, he pulled it back out with a dismissive, "Nope. Not there."

"Far too dangerous if you ask me," Hikoi agreed, scanning the room she had offered. "We lost a cat down there once."

"You guys had a cat?" Cress questioned.

"Like I said: _once,_" Hikoi muttered wistfully.

Cress blinked, processed the information, and uncomfortably slid away from Nicole's bed.

"…ah!" Hikoi exclaimed, spotting exactly one area where a broken bird bath could be stowed away unseen. "Behind the computer! It's a lot less dangerous."

"Good! I don't want to pull it out to find a dead cat hitchhiking it…sorry," Cress coughed awkwardly at the diseased mentioning.

"It wasn't even our cat, truthfully, it was the neighbor's," Hikoi dismissed. "…it is a very long story and involves the rule of not eating tuna in here."

"Does it also involve the Snowstorm of 2005? I heard there was a cat involved in that incident," Cress offered as he rolled the stone bath behind the computer.

"That was the same cat but a different time," Hikoi corrected.

"…do you ever get the feeling that we're the only people in the universe who have any clue about that incident?"

"Often."

"Okay!" Nicole declared from the doorway. "Did ya hide it yet? 'Cuz I got some…I got some things to do. In here. Yea. Get out."

"We're leaving!" Cress chirped, darting out of the room.

Hikoi was about to flee alongside him, making it to the doorway before Nicole held out an arm to stop him.

"Oui! Not you, silly," she teased, pushing him back so Monica could enter. When she closed the door, however, her could definitely tell that something was up.

"What's the occasion?" he asked warily.

"Well, you know how Marc and Cressy freaked out so much when you first found Starfox?" she explained.

"…Starfox?" he blinked.

"Fox and Falco," Nicole groaned. "Jeesh! It's not that hard to remember!"

"It is when you have a thousand different stories to keep track of…anyway, it seems like we were let in on a pretty big deal," Monica hummed. "Caitlyn told me that they didn't even tell their parents about this."

"Now that you mention it, they tend to keep the smashers hidden around the adults…" Hikoi agreed. "It might also explain that secrecy rule we were sworn to."

"Exactly! So, my _expert people skills _tell me that we should TOTALLY do something in return for this awesome adventure!" Nicole exclaimed.

"How long have you had 'expert people skills'?" Hikoi muttered doubtfully.

"She doesn't."

"But Mooooon!"

"You really don't," Monica sighed.

"Sure I do! I just never show them because they're boring to use!" Nicole huffed.

"She's right, anyway. About the gift idea, I mean," Monica added quickly. "It IS almost Christmas…"

"…hm…gift ideas, gift ideas," Hikoi muttered, starting to pace. "It needs to be decent, but not too fancy, or else mother and their parents will suspect something…"

"And yet obviously _about_ the secret, or else they'll just think it's a normal gift…" Nicole quipped.

While drowning in possible Christmas ideas, Monica happened to gaze upon Nicole's desk. Seeing her creations come to life had inspired the young author, and a heavy coating of papers hid its normally sleek surface. Stories of heroic plumbers and magical elves, plant-pulling astronauts and mayors of rual towns…

Actually, those about the magical elves were Monica's. Nicole said she wasn't (super) busy, and that she could refine the plot…but she obviously was, overworking that creative mind of hers to exhaustion. The guilt made her collect her own sheets of paper—and she happened to glance upon an enemy sheet, a slender foe made of dark, empty magic.

An idea went aloft in her mind.

"Why not an adventure?"

"A what?" Hikoi froze mid-step.

"An adventure…mode…thing," she elaborated, trying to put the thought into words. "Like one of their fights, except spread out over a bunch of differentl battlefields…like an adventure."

"'Adventure'…" Nicole muttered before cracking into a grin. "Adventure, yeah! And there can be, like, ReDeads and Goombahs and Koopas and stuff! ADVENTURE, YEAAAAAAH!"

"Then that's what we'll make," Hikoi deemed, bearing a sly smile of his own. "An Adventure Mode."

"ADVENTURE, YEAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

**Announcer: And glory was born!**

**ADVENTURE, YEAAAAAAAAAAAH!**

**Announcer: Would you stop quoting already?! We get it! Adventure, yeah!**

**Yeah!**

**Announcer: Yeah!**

**All quotes of a beloved YouTuber aside, guess what I did over the weekend? WHY, I PLOTTED THE BRAWL ARCH!**

**Announcer: Oh heck YEAH!**

**Guess what, Announcer? You'll be playing a ****_very important _****part in it (unsarcastic comment is highly unsarcastic)~! So will Harold, and Sage, and this new chick, and IIIIIKE and PIIIIIIIT and OLIIIIIIMAR and TOON LIIIIINK and ZERO SUIIIIIIIIIIIIIT SAMUS and other characters without an 'I' like WOOOOOOLF, SNAAAAAAAAAKE, and SOOOOOOOOONIC! Wait, I guess Sonic has an 'I'. AH WELL!**

**Announcer: Sounds pretty fun, especially the part when you're not being sarcastic. Say, can I have a look-see at this plotline?**

**NO. You'll have more fun living it!**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to any who knows what kind of ship Falco used and what team uses it, understands and/or can pull off the tactics like L-cancel and Wave Dashing (that second was from Brawl, I think), or knows what Adventure Mode we're referring to!**

**Announcer: AAAAAAAAND, (Slides in front of Reevee21), bonus REEV points if you know that certain video-maker who tends to say "Adventure, yeah!".**

**I was gonna say that…anyway, the disembodied voice is right! Answer it, and maybe I can do a little reference or something about 'cha!**

**Hug an Eevee, guys, and I'll see you next chapter! BYE!**


	21. Chapter Twenty: Insane Intentions

***Wild Pokémon battle music suddenly plays***

_A wild REEVEE21 appeared!_

**Thought I was dead, didn't 'cha? WELL I WASN'T! ...or maybe I'm posting this from the Underworld. You may never know. Bonus nerd points go toooooooo...**

**Emerald Dynamo  
J.C. Doggendoodle  
StarrySkys102  
Helamoroni (Guest)  
Kitsune-taichou  
Spencerdoodl  
AShinyBlueMew  
and MissQuestions-LaAmazingNabu!**

**The ship that Star Fox uses is called an Arwing, named for the A-shape of the snout. Rather lovely ship. _DO A BARREL ROLL!_**

**L-canceling speeds up a character's animation for "recoil" instances (like the end of Link's Spin Attack) and was used tactically in Melee.**

**And yes, I was referencing the YouTuber PeanutButterGamer. Adventure...YEEEAAAAAAAAAAA!**

**...Oui? What's this? It seems like Jay (a guest reviewer) has asked if I'll be putting in color change/gender bent characters!**

**/*\ ****_Chapter Twenty: Insane Intentions_****/*\**

"Okay, Roy, ready for this?" Ness challenged, tossing the ball up and snatching it in midair.

Roy braced himself and nodded, the shining metal of his poised sword complimenting his enthusiastic grin.

Several other smashers were scattered about the field, some on his team and others on Ness'. The bases were loaded with Peach (whose umbrella made a very compact bat), Fox (that blaster had more than one use, apparently), and Kirby (sure, he had ripped off Ness, but that didn't make him any worse at it), plus guarded by those with natural gloves: Mario, Luigi, and Captain Falcon.

Pikachu tugged its mini-mask down a bit further and prepared to catch the speedball if it missed, which ultimately meant jumping up for the short umpire. Pichu waited nearby as referee, excitably hopping from foot to foot as it waited and waited for something, anything to happen.

Without further ado, Ness cranked his arm back and pitched the miniature baseball as far as a PSI wielder could pitch. Roy swung at just the right speed, just the right level, and just the right time…

…for the ball to emerge on the other side, split neatly into two halves.

"Aw DANG IT!" Fox huffed.

A similar exclamation was emitted from the others, Roy letting out a disappointed sigh as Pikachu nudged the two halves into a pile of scorched, sliced, saliva-covered, seared, and split balls.

"Yep, there goes the fiftieth one," Ness groaned. "Can ANYBODY here hit a ball right?!"

"It wasn't my fault, that fireball was on instinct!" "I guess I swung my parasol a bit too harshly…" "Maybe I should have done a pistol whip?" "Poyo hoi!" "I was trained in sword arms, not sport arms." "Well hey, like I said, something headed for your face? Punch it back!"

"Yea, that's what I thought."

As they tried to find another, intact ball, Monica walked into her bedroom. They had chosen to play in there because of the lack of windows, hence the lack of window-breaking hazards, and didn't seem to notice her as she sat at her desk and slid four once-smashers onto the top of it.

"Oh, Link, what have you done to yourself," she murmured, setting her chin onto the edge to get eye-to-frozen-eye with the warrior. She had to note his battle-ready pose, how he seemed to be frozen in a rather photogenic way. Just a bit too perfect to be caught before a battle, and seeing how there was raw courage etched into his face and not fear, it seemed like he had posed for this.

The same could be said for the ever-graceful Zelda, who held her delicate hands at just the right angle and her dress swished at the perfect edge. That was far too nice for her to have been shot right in the middle of action, so it was clear that they weren't actually fighting at the moment of fossilization.

Which was good. Monica didn't think they could handle the constant bickering of Mario and Bowser AND the duels of Link and Ganondorf.

In her pondering, she noticed the dilemma in the baseball field. "What are you guys up to?" she quipped.

"We're trying to find a ball that hasn't been sliced, burned, or eaten," Luigi answered.

"Maybe you just need something…bigger," she theorized. "Something you can kick around…aha!"

Years ago, as a sort of April Fool's joke, she had crafted a sandbag about the length of her finger to set about the house in a random spot. When someone noticed it, she moved it—in a cooking pot, on a windowsill, in the flowers, up on poor Nicole's face to stare her in the eyes when she dozed off…ah, memories. It was made of rather thick, white cloth, with two eyes drawn on it for comedy, and had gone unused for quite a time now.

"Try this," she offered, swiping it so it landed near home plate. Keyword 'near', and it actually landed on Pikachu—who's natural defense was to Tail Whip it away, coincidentally at Ness. Ness yelped and swatted it towards Roy, who in turn finally hit a double…into Luigi. Luigi batted it away blindly with flailing arms, into Mario, whom took care of it with a few fireballs so it was sent crashing into the wall.

"...PI PICHUUU!" Pichu cheered.

Monica broke into giggles at the sight of them swatting the sandbag back and forth, plus the occasional awesome dodge or high-jump launch. It almost took her mind off of the four on her desk…

"It looks like I missed quite the party."

She jumped a bit at the chilling voice, but went back into a slouch upon realizing it was just Mewtwo. The catlike creature warped up to the back of her chair and stood stiffly, observing the game alongside her.

"Yes. You should have seen Mario's Matrix-styled jump…" Monica sighed nostalgically. "What are the others up to, anyways?"

"Nicole is working on one of her idea rabbits," Mewtwo explained, "Freya and Caitlyn went out with the adults on some holiday shopping, and I believe the three boys are working out some new Smash tactics. I do not, however, know what you are doing."

"I'm trying to get these guys back online," she informed. "They're mostly mine, so I should be able to do something to help them…hey, while you're here, can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"If you use the same energy and hang around the smashers so much…how come you aren't a smasher?" she asked slowly, afraid to offend. Mewtwo was a rather chilled creature, though, so she didn't think she was infiltrating too badly.

"…that is a good question," he answered, folding himself into a meditation pose with a tail-flick. "As the strongest Pokémon, I suppose that I _should_ fight by means of representing the two girls…I suppose it's because I don't trust my attacks that much."

"Oh?"

"My psychic prowess, I fear, would destroy their very being. Ripping my combatants fiber by fiber is not exactly the friendliest way to engage in battle," he sighed.

"Yea…especially since they're literal fibers," she commented.

"Head's up!"

The quick yelp from Fox was the only message they got before the sandbag was sent flying towards them, namely at Mewtwo. Without flinching an eyelash (probably because he didn't exactly _have_ eyelashes…), he caught it an inch away from his face in a psychic grip before preforming a swift kick-slash-Psywave combination of maneuvers—sending it upwards. And with a final, conjured ball of shadows rival that of Ness' best throw, he knocked it into the field.

…only for it to stand up on the pitcher's mound, straighten itself, and give off a burst of confetti.

"Whoa," Monica whispered.

"Thanks, 'two!" Captain Falcon hollered before the games began again.

"…don't trust yourself, eh?" she quipped, nudging an elbow at him.

"T-that was incredibly durable cloth, I probably would have shredded it if I was not concerned about throwing it back," he excused.

"Oh, don't be like that," she hushed. "That thing's made out of the same stuff and same thickness as little Pichu. If anything, you'll only be prone to their attacks."

"Is that a challenge?" A lonely eye ridge was irked, a playful smile the only thing missing from his face.

"If the…Master Ball…fits," she decided. It wasn't a very good metaphor, but it was at least relevant to a Pokemon.

"…alright then. Next match, you'll see me on the battlefield."

**/*\**

They were done, and they were _glorious._

The duo of hunchbacked, parka-clad, dark-haired eskimos before her took literally hours to create. Everything, from the spiked hiking boots to the fluffy collar rim, had to be fully perfect for her tastes; and it was, so on the fifth hour Nicole rested.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahh…" she moaned, sounding a bit like a distressed whale in the process. Bits of fabric, threads of short length, and several cotton wads were spread about her workplace, the only truly empty spot being taken by the two she dubbed the Ice Climbers. Nana and Popo for names, and the most adorable pair of…whoever. She hadn't really decided. Siblings? Lovers? Cousins? Unrelated mountain climbers?

"Well, that's done with," she uttered, arms flopped over the back of her desk chair along with the majority of her upper half. "Good thing Frey and Cait showed me that weird cloth stuff…"

They had discovered a jackpot of colors, textures, and patterns of fabric in the basement quite a while ago—when she had first began making things, actually. The twins recognized it as the same cloth the active smashers were created with, so it served as a good reason to make the Ice Climbers out of it, too. Now she just had to wait for when either of the boys weren't busy…

In her relaxation, she noticed an off-white lump of fabric not resembling the scrap cloth or scrap cotton she had sprawled about. It was a bit shaded, and seemed to have five extensions, but the blockage of material kept her view from it.

Swiping her hand across the desk in one neat, not-paying-attention-to-the-clatters-on-the-ground moment, she uncovered the object and found it to be a certain klutzy boy's glove. Cress had apparently abandoned it while trying to hide the Fountain of Dreams—she must have not noticed it in her artistic fever.

…wasn't that the same glove that brought those creations to life?

"I am so tempted."

Nicole shook her head and sent a longing glance to her Ice Climbers, so very cold and _unalive _inside. She could distinctly remember that sparks had a tendency to shock anyone upon bare contact, but she never got any details on whether the gloves shocked you. It didn't look like Marco was constantly cringing, wasn't he?

She reached over and let her fingers levitate over the glove, not feeling the energetic atmosphere of electricity. "Okay…okay, okay, okay," she muttered to herself. "I'll just…slip it on real quick, and if anything happens I'll take it off. Got it? Good. Wait, who am I talking to?"

Without further speech, she shuffled her hand under the glove and picked it up. And after a few more seconds of wondering whether or not she should right a will if anything terrible did happen, she slid it over her left hand.

_This is crazy._

_This is crazy._

_This is Crazy._

With a panicked yelp and a quick flick of the wrist, she sent the glove across the room as it began spazzing. The fingers of it continued to twitch and writher and a tingling sensation stayed on her hand, and as she stared she began trying to massage out the cramps it had given her. The glove seemed rather odd, flipping and shuddering and glitching out as it was, as if its owner was mentally insane.

Just when it had begun to cool down and she thought it was safe to exhale again, it flew. Upwards at first, raising slowly like a flag on a pulley, its tips never holding still—like an anxious author with no keyboard. And right then and there, with her heart thudding and breath shaky, it threw itself back and laughed.

It _laughed. _Cackled, even, like a lightning bolt or mad scientist.

"Oh my goWHATWHATWHATWHAT?!" she yowled when it dove towards her and began attacking. Not attacking with slaps and stabs, oh _noooo_, but with miniature laser beams and strange airplane-poised dives and every other random, inefficient attack it could come up with.

She slapped it into a wall after its lasers had scored her arm, only for it to flip around and smack her face sideways. She brought both of her hands onto it but instantly yelped and recoiled when a strange energy bit at her, instead ducking to avoid another one of its fly-bys.

It skidded to a stop, pointed to Hikoi's face as the boy opened the door. "What…did you DO?!" he shouted as it resumed and nearly broke his nose, instead hitting Monica as she also investigated the screaming.

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WOULD ACT LIKE THAT!" Nicole defended.

Monica met the glove in a punch when it reared around and tried to hit her again, but pulled her fist away and dodged when the same mysterious energy ate away at her knuckle. Hikoi snatched an object off the floor—an old paper towel tube—and dueled with the inanimate object, distracting it just long enough for the girls to get away.

It eventually freed itself and sped away, into Nicole's face. She could barely duck in time to miss its outstretched fingertips, and it just soared into range of Monica instead. She revealed a pencil and stabbed at the hand's palm, scoring a direct hit into the palm of it.

The hand froze and seemed to take into consideration that a lead and wooden object had been forced into its center.

**/*\**

Back downstairs, Marco and Cress had been impatiently waiting to resume the smasher's match. Hikoi had run upstairs at the sound of Nicole's scream, explaining that it was probably a spider that had creeped into her paper stacks during the winter.

Cress suddenly hissed and wrapped his fingers around his palm, eyes squeezed shut from the sudden and rather intense burst of pain in his left hand.

"Cress? You alright?" Marco chirped.

"Oh jeez…! I think my hand just got stabbed or something…"

"Huh…that's weird. Roy's upstairs and Marth isn't around, I don't think-…oh great."

"What?" Cress whimpered.

"You said you left your glove in Nicole's room, right?" he groaned.

"Yea, I had meant to get it," he answered.

"And you remember the last time we let a glove get out of hand?" he rubbed at his temples in dread. Never mind the funny pun, having Cress' entire left hand at risk (his writing hand, no less) is serious.

"…you don't think—" Cress was cut off by a wail. Not the smasher's, or Marco's, or even one from the dueling trio upstairs; he was prevented by his own screech of pain as Monica fully shoved that writing utensil entirely through the glove upstairs.

"Cress?!" Marco yelped worriedly.

**/*\**

Monica jerked the pencil back out of the glove, leaving a small hole through the palm and out the back of it. None of them heard Cress' agony downstairs, and instead stared at the levitating hand before them.

"…do you think we finished it?" Nicole muttered.

Right as the words left her mouth, a strange glow began pouring from the glove's wound. It overflowed with white light and ended up blinding the entire room and everyone in it, before pooling through the hall and the other rooms within it. Then the living room, the dining room, downstairs and all of its residents, until the entire house was radiating a white that shamed the fresh snow outside.

During the blight, they could hear something: the distinct noise of nineteen characters powering down.

_Oooooooh crabapple… _Nicole thought before blacking out.

* * *

**And I casually add in the old Crabapple joke, because HEY, every plot-thick moment needs a dash of humor.**

**Announcer: Oh jeez, a pencil right through the hand…that ought to hurt.**

**Really, anything right through a hand is going to hurt…**

**Announcer: Well yea, but still! I heard you can get lead poisoning from those writing things of evil!**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to anyone who knows what an "idea rabbit" is, understands the Master Ball metaphor, or knows what the Ice Climbers' relationship was intended to be!**

**Announcer: Well, in all my years of service, I've noticed that the Ice Climbers are usually portrayed as siblings…isn't that right?**

**We'll find out, won't we, reviewers? Well, until next chapter, hug an Eevee and I'll see you next time! BYE! *Looks over at holder of pencils nearby*…*knocks it over*. Heh. That's what you get for hurting my character. Buuuurn, pencils, buuuuurn.**


	22. Chapter Twenty-One: New Game

***Reevee21 slowly blinks awake with a killer migraine, on the floor, in a trashed hotel room. She sees a manga book in her hands (with a phone number scribbled on it in Sharpie), her Celestial Bronze Pencil in the wall, documents all over the place, and a handful of Cucco milling about. There are nicks in her left ear, weird stains in her shirt, a gijinka Pyroar sleeping in the corner, and a gijinka Lapras KO-ed on the bathroom's open door.***

**..._dude_. _What._**

**_...WHAT._**

**(*FIVE MINUTES LATER*)**

**Hiatuses suck.**

**Basically, I kind of lost my way in the middle of this fic. I was trying to put in a few filler chapters before something cool happened, but I couldn't remember what that cool thing was supposed to _be_. So I sorta lead you into a ditch there.**

**...I'm sorry.**

**Lately, I haven't been feeling incredibly motivated. It's been about a year and a half since I got on FFdotNet, so maybe it's just the energy burst rubbing off...? I mean, don't get me wrong, I ain't quitting. HAHAHAHA, I am NOT quitting! I just...don't know EXACTLY what I'm gonna do at the moment! *Smiles nervously.***

**I've got some random ideas. Mostly for Pokémon. But I'm in a bit of a rough patch right now, IRL-speaking. You know, between my mom's new job and high school sucking and the end of Summer and FMA. _I FOUND FMA_. _EVERYBODY BE AFRAID_. ...YA.**

**WELP, enough of me apologizing! This is a revised version of chapter twenty-two, you know, the good chapter that I lost. For those of you who have read this before, there are some chunks that you already know; I found them _worthy_ to grace the chapter again! So please enjoy it, and again, I'm sorry. I swear, the next time I'm lost, I won't paint all over this fic.**

**MOVING ON!**

**/*\**

**And the bonus nerd points go to-**

**...wait...all of the nerd points were opinions! AUGH!**

**Announcer: You are a failure to nerdkind and will headdesk multiple times.**

**I'M A FAILURE TO NERDKIND! *Headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk***

**Announcer: Look at me, I'm Shulk!**

**"If the Master Ball fits" is essentially a parody of "If the shoe fits". Though I guess it's more of an insult if you're talking to a Pokémon...**

**Are you ready for this? The creator of Ice Climbers, Kenji Miki, intended for the two to be whoever the players consider them as. Twins, siblings, rivals...but in reality, he designed them to be..._LOVERS._**

**Announcer: ...uh...wow. Popo and Nana, being an official video game couple since before it was cool.**

**/*\ ****_Chapter Twenty-One: New Game _****/*\**

_Beep. Bet-to beep. Treep beb beep beep beep._

To just about everyone with any knowledge at all in the vast language of English, and just about every language in general, the previous "statement" was just a nonsense combination of sounds. But anyone with any knowledge at all in the vast language of music could see that they all followed similar syllables and a limited range of tone. And wasn't that what most languages compromised of?

The listener nodded slowly, taking in the sentences being spoken within the otherwise jibberish. Her silver hair, half-coiled at the tip, swayed with the movement at an equally gentle pace. She kept a concerned, blue-eyed gaze on the speaker as he beeped, which slowly grew more accepting with every arguing factor he brought up.

The man himself was about a third her height, flat as cardboard and with no distinguishing features. He _did_ have a large nose. But it really was impossible to tell anything else, since his entire form was black. An off-white outline made it stand out against the dark area around them, though. His movement was as simple as his appearance, straight jerks like that of a badly-animated video game. Even his vocals were simplistic.

But he still made sense, so she kept listening.

After finishing his argument, he relaxed into a slightly hunched position. It still looked like he was in the middle of a fight, fists curled and limbs braced, but at least it was better than jumping upwards or rapid foot change like he was doing earlier.

"…I think I understand," the listener spoke. We'll call her that for now because that was what she did - listened in for the little voices, and personify them. "You would be giving up the afterlife for this, however…is that what you truly desire?"

_Beep! Pep peep teeb beep._

"Ah. You are a brave one."

_Bep Beep. Beet tet tweet bep beep._

She chuckled. For someone about to give up eternal peace to keep others alive, he sure had a sense of humor. "Very well. Good luck, Mr. Game and Watch."

Mr. Game and Watch nodded rapidly (or perhaps at a normal speed, just fast for the average person) and began his trek, walking with large steps and uneven movements towards the entrance to elsewhere and the exit to here. A few wandering spirits stared after him, with no places to go or things to do – unlike the one that passed them, who had a defined Place to go and an important Thing to do.

The spirits pulsed feelings to each other at his leave. Confusion, curiosity, criticism, or cries of encouragement.

One spirit in particular, one that had been loitering around for decades now, jumped towards him. It let out a happy chirp of a pulse and looked up at him hopefully. This one spirit did that to everyone near it; how it maintained such a positive little demeanor when it was tied down to this place so firmly was beyond everyone who received its greeting.

It showed up several decades ago, as mentioned, before vanishing unexpectedly; lots of the spirits here vanished unexpectedly and never returned. They always vanished for their next purpose. So it was incredibly strange when the hopeful spirit turned up here again, heartbroken and without the image it was given as its next purpose, ten or so years ago. Yet it was so _optimistic_. Almost annoyingly, at times.

The flat man stopped for a second or two, either smiling or staring depending on what his nonvisible face looked like. He finally let out a determined, promising _be-e-ep _before continuing on his way.

The hopeful spirit watched him go, probably smiling as well. Spirits had no form until their next purpose. But this one had a next purpose. It once had a stronger form, a tighter soul, a face and name and reputation. It had kept those. But only if you looked at it right.

It turned around to wander some more. If one were looking the right way, they would have caught the image of wings.

**/*\**

"OH MY _ARCEUS._"

"_Freya!"_

"This is obviously an occasion for it, Cait!" Freya shouted loudly, her face a twisted mask of confusion and rage. "Do you SEE that house?! _Do you see it?!_" She hit the ground on her knees, not paying attention to the snow that they soaked up or the jolt of pain it sent up her legs. Facing the house, she screamed, "YOU MANIACS! _YOU BLEW IT UP! _WE LEFT THE HOUSE FOR LITERALLY _TWO HOURS_ AND YOU _BLEW IT UP_!"

Caitlyn, eyes wide and mouth small, stared at her twin; on her knees, on the ground, perhaps in front of their cousins' and brothers' graves.

The house itself looked incredibly odd but _distinctly_ destroyed. Destroyed in a portal-to-another-world sort of way. The windows and doors were gone, replaced by vortexes of mixed, secondary colors that flowered outward like the house was infested by some kind of massive, flower-filled bush. The areas around them were chipped, cracked, and otherwise ruined, improving the idea of some kind of explosion scenario.

Saying the adults (and kids) were surprised was an understatement. So was saying they were confused, or panicked, or terrified. They were stunned by all those and more, and weighted down by too many concerns for the two girls to recall. Especially since the girls were too busy with their own concerns…and theories.

"Did something happen with the smashers?" Caitlyn offered meekly.

"YES, OBVIOSLY!" Freya barked, making her jump back. She picked herself up but still kept her eye-daggers on the house. "THIS is not normal and the SMASHERS are not normal! WHO ELSE COULD HAVE BROUGHT THIS, CAITLYN."

"F-Freya, I'm sure – "

"Now they've gone out and RUINED an ENTIRE HOUSE!"

"Frey –"

"WITH OUR RELATIVES IN IT!"

"Fre –"

"THEY'RE DEAD, CAITLYN!" Freya snapped, turning around and clamping her hands on Caitlyn's shoulders. She lightened, ever so slightly, upon seeing Caitlyn's worrisome face; her eyes were slightly wet.

This happened every now and then. Freya would get too wound up in the moment and scene to see the quieter, gentler version of her standing behind the limelight. She would hog the act and scene, disrupt the plot, throw the mood out the window for the sake of satisfying her "holy cow this is not a normal" feeling and not let the helper help out. The one that had an important detail to share with the audience, further the plot, or otherwise be helpful and not dramatic. The little sister. The younger twin. The peaceful creature.

Sweet, gentle, bashful Caitlyn.

"…this wasn't their fault, I'm sure," Caitlyn murmured, like the snow that fell from the dark sky over their heads. "There might have been an accident. We haven't told Nicole, Monica, and Hikoi everything, right?"

"Right," Freya breathed, like Caitlyn was a fragile little butterfly that might hide away again.

"So we'll just fix it," Caitlyn continued, turning to the house and getting herself loose from Freya. "It can't be all that hard, right?"

"Yea," Freya sighed, "I guess I overreacted. Portals? Awesome! Not a problem. I think with portals all the time. Nothing to worry about."

And then there was silence.

…and then there were electronic beeping noises.

"What the—whoa! Caitlyn, look!" Freya gasped, jabbing a finger towards a nearby tree.

It was a perfectly ordinary oak tree, save for a face being scratched into the bark courtesy of Monica. Something about 'deku'. But now, a slit in the side was glowing bright gold—the same bright gold, interestingly, as the portals now branching through the house. A paper-thin shadow stepped out of it.

"…whaaaa," Caitlyn drawled.

"It's a man."

The man walked past them, but stopped with one foot above the ground upon seeing them.

"—aaaaaaaaaa," Caitlyn continued in a one-note tone.

"Who's two-dimensional," Freya added.

The man stayed where he was, most likely raising an eyebrow, and made a confused noise.

"—aaaaaaaaaa—" Caitlyn was still going.

"And doesn't have a face," Freya mumbled.

"—aaaaaaaat on earth?" Caitlyn finished.

"…_can we help you_?" Freya muttered, leaning towards the man.

The character jumped a few times—or teleported up and down, depending on how you looked at it. It pointed to the house determinedly, all the while chittering to them about his mission. It was mostly lost to the two, who had to look down to see him even though he had the shape of a full-grown man…

"…are you going inside there?" Caitlyn perked.

The man nodded with an affirmative _deet-deet-deet-deet._

"Can you survive in a portal-torn house like that?" Freya deadpanned. "…if you can, we're going with you."

"We are?"

"Of course we are!" Freya shouted. "We're two-fourths responsible for this, aren't we? Then we've gotta go in with what's-your-name and find out!"

"…yea!" Caitlyn cheered. "But, uh…what is your name?"

The man produced a sign out of his back pocket(?), which was seemingly pointless to use since it was as dark as he was. But he pulled out a writing utensil and wrote on it anyway; he handed it to Freya.

"…okay but _whoooooaaaa!" _Freya awed as a black, inky substance slid off the board like snow slush off a wooden board. It fell to the ground and displayed a sort of dark iridescence, shining in purple and faded white, leaving scratchy handwriting behind: _MR. GAME AND WATCH._

"You're a little strange, Mr. Game and Watch," Caitlyn noted quietly, poking a shoe at the dark stuff and then leaning towards the suddenly three-dimensional board.

Mr. Game and Watch shrugged as if he received it normally.

"Okay! Our mission: get in there and get everybody out! Our _second_ mission: find out who the Reverse World caused that!" Freya declared, running towards the back door of the house with the other two close by.

"Wait! Why the back door?!" Caitlyn called.

"The parents will see us if we go through the front!" Freya answered. "And you know the game logic motto! 'Grownups are useless'!"

Snow crunched under the trio's feet, leaving two sets of near-identical footprints and one set of line-like ones. The sky was dark gray and raining powdery snow, punctuated by chilled breezes and the whistling wind. The snow itself already reached halfway up the girls' calves—it had been snowing for several days straight now.

"_…__I'mmm…dreaming of a whiiite…Christ-maaas…"_

The three brave adventurers reached the back door, now a bloom-like portal of sunset hues, and slowed to a stop.

"_Just like the ooones I used to knooow…"_

"No chicken exits?" Freya dared.

"None," Caitlyn agreed, approaching the portal.

"_Where the treeeees…glisten…"_

Mr. Game and Watch approached the portal and, without any hesitation, walked into it. It shivered slightly and let off gold dust after he walked through the center, even when he walked straight through the outside of it like it was an illusion.

"_But children…don't liiisten…"_

Freya grabbed her sibling's hand and marched through the portal. Caitlyn followed absentmindedly; upon entering, they were both blinded by light.

"_To hear…voi-ces in the snooow…" _a voice sang absent-mindedly.

**/*\**

"…bro? Bro. Bro bro bro. Bro? Bro?! Hey Brosiden, King of the Brocean?!"

"What?"

"Marco! You're here, too!"

"Yea, Cress, I'm here…where exactly _is_ here? Also, what's with the Brosiden?"

"No idea. Kind of looks like a black hole, though. And…I heard it from a guy…"

"…it's actually pretty neat."

"Thanks!"

"But that's off topic. We need to find wherever 'here' is and get out…wait, maybe this is a dream?"

"Is it possible for two people to have the same dream?"

"I dunno. Maybe one of us is a figment of the other's imagination."

"…or maybe we're both figments of imagination. To a teenage girl on a laptop, sitting in a car while she's waiting for piano lessons."

"Yep, you've still got your trademark craziness."

"I'm serious! Maybe she's writing a book about us!"

"…thinking about it makes my head hurt. I mean, if we're figments of imagination to whoever-this-is—let's call her Vee—would we even know it?"

"She's be in control of that, wouldn't she? So I guess we could be aware if she wanted us to!"

"Huh. So let's say that, by some miracle of Vee, we realize that we're book characters."

"Then I guess we have mental breakdowns!"

"Who has time for a mental breakdown?"

"I do!"

"No, Cress. You really don't."

"Aw…"

"**As much as I would love to let this continue and unravel this entire conspiracy—"**

"AUGHWHOWHATWHERE?!"

"A voice…?"

"**—****it'll be much healthier for all of us to move along."**

"Physically, or mentally?"

"**Quiet, half-crazed mortal."**

"Mortal…so you're a deity."

"**Sharp as ever, Master."**

"How long have you had a servant?"

"Wait, it's YOU!"

"**It's been awhile. I do miss good company, especially ever since that cursed girl escaped me…"**

"You mean that Vee we were just talking about?"

"**No. I am referring to a much older ancestor of you modern-day Sparkers, the true starter of the Tenda line…a source of that strange, creative energy that lives on in you."**

"Whu?"

"In us?"

"**You and your relatives, anyways. HAL Laboratories, Monolith Soft, Nintendo R&amp;D, Intelligent Systems, Creatures Inc., GAME FREAK…and yourselves, Master and Crazy Hand."**

"What are you jabbering about? We don't know anyone with those names!"

"Wait…"

"Really, when was the last time anyone named their kid one of those titles?"

"Monolith…Creatures…HAL…?"

"And we're Marco and Cress, buddy, not Master and Crazy. Nice titles, though!"

"Cress, wait."

"Yea? Don't let the voice get to ya!"

"I'm not, I'm just taking its advice. Listen, he says our 'titles' are Master and Crazy, right?"

"**Correct."**

"Master-Marco, Crazy-Cress?"

"Huh. That does sound kind of similar."

"There's more; HAL-Harold, Monolith-Monica, Nintendo-Nicole, Creatures-Caitlyn, FREAK-Freya…I guess that leaves Intelligent Systems. Maybe Hikoi?"

"Oh yea! He said that this girl was our relative, right? And all of those people—including us—are related! Even Hikoi, technically!"

"**Look at them work. You must have had divine inspiration on that theory, Master."**

"I call her Vee."

… "Uh-oh…"

"Something up, Cress?"

"Err, voice?"

**"****My name is Tabuu."**

"Okay then. Tabuu? You said this girl was a power source?"

"**Yes, I did."**

"And that she was related to us?"

"**Yes. The facts still stand. Spit out the dreaded answer, Crazy."**

"So doesn't that make us…?"

"…aw crabapple."

"**Power sources of a kind, indeed. Divine inspiration is all about us, it seems. But that's exactly why I'm here; a weakened deity such as I cannot live without some sort of energy."**

"I see where this is going, and I don't like it…!"

"**But you cannot evade it, my dear Crazy. Just as a child cannot escape growing up, so can you not escape the misfortune of being my power. Perhaps an accumulation of you all shall be enough…"**

"No…" Marco uttered before his voice hardened into a solemn shout. "No! We won't let you within a YARD of them!"

"You'll never get Freya OR Caitlyn!" Cress joined. "Not Monica, not Harold, not Nicole, not Hikoi! Never in a thousand years!"

"**But I can," **a maniac smile was made obvious in Tabuu's words. "**No matter how far you run, no matter how hard you fight. No one can escape the forbidden custom of Tabuu!"**

* * *

**WELP, I guess we're going to be following the girls around some more. Which is nice! I mostly let the boys (MA BOYS) handle the last arch.**

**Freya and Caitlyn's personalities are incredibly influenced by two of my siblings IRL, who are a year (and a foot) apart but act like twins. Katherine is very quiet and pretty sweet, never really one to stand up and do stuff; Doreen can be kind of snappy at times and is usually the crazier one out of them. **

**Aaaand I'm the older sibling who stands in the background, muttering "Can you guys be more quiet? It's 11:00 PM…" while half-asleep. YAY ME!**

**…*****turns around a few times*…we're missing something.**

**…**

**…****oh! Oh. We're missing sarcasm. Hey, Announcer? …Announcer?! …ANNOUNCER! WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?!**

**…**

**…****Announcer? …Announcer?!**

**…**

**…****CRUD I KILLED HIM –**

**BONUS NERD POINTS to those who picked up the "You maniacs! You blew it up!" and "deku" references! ALSO more BONUS NERD POINTS to those who vaguely know about that one spirit Mr. G&amp;W met!**

**Thanks for reading, everybody! Again, SUPER sorry that I lead you guys into a ditch last time…IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN, OR MY NAME'S NOT *unknown first name* RENEE *unknown last name*! ****_Please_**** stick with me just a little bit longer by hitting that Follow/Favorite button, leave a review on your way out, cuddle an Eevee for me, and I'll see you next chapter! BYE!**

**...**

**...Announcer?!**

**...**

**…*****starts tearing through papers* ANNOUNCER, WHERE DID YOU GO?! ANNOOUUUUUUUUUUUNCEEEEEEEERRR—**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two: Team-Up Work

**Alright, New Year's resolutions.**

**First off: I really need to stop sleeping in until 11:00.**

**Second off: Eat more pickles. I'm disappointed in my lack of dill this year.**

**Third off: Speak fluent Cave Story. That...that one I really wanna do...**

**Fourth off: finish the Melee arch of Heirlooms before this Christmas, when it will have had its first-year anniversary of not too many updates.**

**...*puts Mario's hat on head and mounts random Epona* *determined face* truly, I have a great task ahead of me. *Lifts a Mii's sword in the air* ONWARD, MY READERS! KEEP NAGGING ME UNTIL I GET IT DONE! _CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGE!_**

* * *

**/*\ ****_Chapter Twenty-Two: Team-Up Work _****/*\**

Walking through the portal felt a bit like wadding through a grass plain—if it was five feet above your head. Tendrils of the portal, soft and scratchy alike, scratched against Caitlyn's jeans and snagged on her sweater. They teased her hair away into static, separated strands of gray against gold and kept poking her eyes and face like a curious alien.

"I never thought portals—" _would be like this, _Freya might have finished, if a stalk didn't get into her mouth and disrupt her speech into a series of spits and curses. Cait herself could just barely see Freya, even though she was only a few feet ahead.

"EW! EW EW EW! AUGH! THERE'S, LIKE, UNIVERSE JUICE ALL OVER IT! EEEWWWWW!" Freya squealed, swatting at her face.

_Bep-bep-bep-bep-beep!, _Mr. Game and Watch stated irritably. He did portal-traveling much more often, apparently—or maybe he had some kind of galaxy-juice-repellent on—because the gold tendrils rarely touched him. He was a flat, black blob in a forest of gold and plant-like structures.

"Gimme a break, this stuff tastes like a nebula! Bleh…are we almost there?" Freya complained.

_Beep. Trep-bep tre beep Beo-eo-eep beep bep tree._

"…I think a tree's involved, Freya," Caitlyn offered hopefully before a soft, fuzzy vine curled around her face. It tasted vaguely like a garden vegetable; like what would happen if you had a mouthful of tomato vines.

…it also tasted a bit like black holes and starry skies. Huh. Universe juice.

"Hey! I see something that's not—PTHEW—plant-looking things!" Freya declared.

"Good!" Caitlyn called back after detangling the vine. "What does it look like?!"

"…uh…dark!" Freya replied.

Mr. Game and Watch made it out first. The portal didn't thin out, like the forest it resembled; it ended rather abruptly, instead. Only a few short vines and tendrils stuck out after him before recoiling back to their place…versus someone like Freya's exit, who practically took half the forest with her.

Freya glared at the portal distrustfully and wiped a fair amount of sparkly stuff off her tongue. "Ugth…I hath a new leath favorith thravel methothd…" She turned to the space around her with the same glare, except leveled out to a disbelieving stare. "…whuuuth?"

It was inky black all around them save for a faint, faded light around them. The place felt small and enclosed, with the only thing worth noting being a screen as tall as a man that hovered a few feet off the ground. The area felt serene and tense, as if waiting.

Caitlyn tumbled out of the woods and shook herself off (scattering enough gold dust to make tinsel). She joined Freya in staring at the screen, eventually speaking up to Mr. Game and Watch: "What is this place?"

He responded with some helpful-sounding beeps.

"We aren't getting an answer that way," Freya stated. "Hey, I wonder if this is a touch screen."

Before her sister could stop her, Freya reached over and tapped the screen. A pulse waved through it with a quiet hum, and it switched to a different view; twenty-five small boxes stacked on each other and labeled with one black bar each, overshadowed by a scarlet-colored stripe at the top of the screen reading "_ADVENTURE MODE" _in straight, white letters. Four large, empty boxes, numbered one to four, sat on the bottom of the screen—two in a lighter shade.

Though what really caught the girl's attention were the familiar faces _in_ the boxes.

"What the heck?! Mario?! Luigi?!" Freya spat.

"And Link, and Pikachu," Caitlyn noted.

_Bep beep! _Mr. Game and Watch remarked.

"Everyone's here, alright…" Caitlyn awed.

"Well, who the heck took mugshots of each and every of the smashers and put them on a touch-screen-display-…thing?" Freya muttered.

The characters themselves looked confused. A few of the less-panicked ones craned their necks around to take a look at the area; others were banging on the walls, trying to find a way out. Pikachu and Pichu were each running on the walls of their boxes like frantic hamsters on unmoving wheels, while Samus simply stared forward and looked ticked. Mario and Luigi were each sputtering a story, tapping the front wall for attention, though not making a single sound.

Curious and slightly disturbed, Caitlyn reached out with a hand and lightly pressed her fingertips against Pichu's box. A cartoonish _ba-weep _was emitted and the box was taken from the stack without a problem, following Caitlyn's hand like she was physically holding it.

"Huh," Freya remarked, one eyebrow raising. "Hey, try putting it in the larger box. The little guy's frantic."

Caitlyn dragged Pichu, who had stopped running and had pressed its face against the front wall of the box, to the first large box on the bottom of the screen. The smaller box disappeared and Pichu was now set in the larger box with a _shin! _noise.

"_PICHU!" _a voice declared.

"Announcer?!" Freya gasped, pointing towards the ceiling. Mr. Game and Watch's gaze followed her finger, his face devoid of features to express emotion and thus looking already stony.

"_Sorry, kid," _the same voice stated, "_I don't do announcing." _It was considerably tenser than their Announcer, lacking a metal touch but having a loud tone.

Freya pursed her lips. "Huh. Well, do you do play referee for this screen?"

"_That character selection screen? Yes-siree! You're one o' the first to be actually using it in a while." _the voice declared. "_Seems like G. A. W. lead you two in here."_

Mr. Game and Watch perked up with a beep.

"Yea. We were looking for some relatives," Freya stated. "Two black-headed, white-gloved morons, a pair of girls with silver hair—one with a heck of a lot more energy—and a Japanese boy. Seen 'em?"

_"__Those sparkers? Yep; they came in a while back, unintentionally, upon breaking Crazy Hand," _the voice confirmed. "_Are you sure you want to pick Pichu to head after them?"_

"What?" Caitlyn peeped.

"_Well, kid," _the voice huffed, sounding prideful, "_Adventure Mode requires a smasher and a sparker to use. The smasher is the avatar, handling fighting and travel and all that; though it's the sparker that dictates their attacks and where they go."_

"Sounds simple enough."

"_I'm not done. The mode is twelve stages long, each stage with their own perks," _the voice continued. "_Enemies, time limit, crazy fights, that sort of thing. Succeed on one, you'll get to the next, 'till you get to the final one—and that'll be where it'll end. Your relatives should be scattered along 'em."_

"Yyyeaaaa, we got this," Freya stated, pounding her fist into her palm. "Who's player one?"

"_You."_

"Great!" Freya stated, marching to the screen and looking over the characters. "Hey, no fair, Caitlyn, you chose Pichu for me!"

"I can take it back…" Caitlyn mumbled, picking up Pichu again. Pichu was enclosed again in a box and she was able to put it back without too much trouble, save some grouchy sparks from the little rodent.

"Hm…well…uh…" Freya's newfound confidence quickly decided to run off and hide. "Who would I pick for a slightly unfair partnership across an unknown terrain where either of us could die as result of the other's moves…?"

"Fox?"

"Nah. Mewtwo!"

Mewtwo was dragged to the 'P1' box, and the voice declared "_MEWTWO!"_

"Now you!" Freya deemed, shoving Caitlyn forward.

"Oh…um…Pikachu," she decided, taking Pikachu to 'P2'.

"_PIKACHU!" _the voice decreed. "_Fun name he's got. PIKACHU! PIKACHU! PIKACHU!"_

"Pi-kaaaa!"

The girls yelped simultaneously and jumped backwards, Freya bonking into the screen and causing it to shudder in one of her less graceful side effects of being terrified.

Pikachu didn't seem to mind. It stared up at the girls with wide, bright eyes from the sheeny black floor, its mouth puckered into a small frown, its ears folded back from their earlier screech. Sparks flickered under its scruffy, yellow fur. Though, most importantly, it was two feet tall and very much alive.

"…you know what? I don't think I care about copyright anymore. I've said 'what' way too much. From this point onward, I am accepting what's coming to me!" Freya declared.

"_Well, kid, did you think you'd be in charge of a hand-sized smasher?" _the voice snorted. "_What you're goin' through is all life-sized, up-and-personal, to-the-detail! That trio outdid themselves with this adventure mode."_

"I assume it's going to be difficult, then?" Mewtwo's voice perked up. Freya spotted her partner in the shadows and smirked confidently, savoring the beautiful Psychic attacks the pair could do together.

"_Sure is. Your friends got knocked out on their first try; hence why they're scattered about and such, waiting for someone to go out and bail 'em," _the voice decreed. It came to a conclusion and added, "_you wouldn't mind sending out some smashers to pinpoint 'em, wouldn't you?"_

"That would be nice, can you do that?" Caitlyn peeped.

"_Sure thing, honey."_

"Don't call my twin honey, Announcer."

"_Don't call me 'Announcer', snappy."_

"You little—!"

"_READY?!" _the new Announcer shouted.

"Everyone together now," Mewtwo stated, levitating close to the girls and placing himself on the ground. He clamped one paw on each of their shoulders and allowed Pikachu to perch on him; the girls were a bit busy marveling at his grip to get the gist of what he meant.

"**_GO!_**"

Abruptly, a hole opened up beneath them and sent them plummeting. The girls' screams echoed up it, and Mr. Game and Watch peered into it with a bit of worry; he beeped to the Announcer.

"_I'm sure they're fine. It's Mario! What pair of humans in the history of gaming couldn't handle Mario?" _the Announcer grumbled.

**/*\**

"WHEN I FIND HIS PHYSICAL FORM, I'M GOING TO KILL HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMM!" Freya howled on the way down.

The four found themselves approaching a grassy landscape with questionable hill shapes and floating platforms. Puffy, white clouds soared them by, each in the same pattern as the one before it; a distant castle rose in the background, and unusual mushrooms and turtles wandered about below. The whole scene was colored in bright, cartoon shades with occasional patterning and a lot of cell-shading.

Nobody could take that in because, just like any sane person who found themselves rapidly falling to not-very-soft-looking ground, they were occupied with trying to stop.

"Mewtwo, Teleport!" Freya ordered.

"Freya, I cannot teleport while we are moving at such a speed," Mewtwo said over the wind.

"ARGH!"

"I also cannot teleport someone without physical form."

"Whaddya mean, 'without physical form'?! I'm plenty physical! I punched a guy in Kindergarten!" Freya declared.

"That was you?!" Caitlyn squeaked.

"Yes!"

"Freya! I was sent out for the rest of the class because they thought it was me!"

"They did?!"

"Yes!" Caitlyn sobbed, who happened to be falling head-first towards the ground and wasn't taking it well.

"I'm sorry!" Freya said, cupping her hands to shout towards her.

"It's okay!" Caitlyn shot her a thumbs-up—actually, a thumbs-down, but being upside-down forces you do that sort of thing.

"What I mean by 'physical form' is having a body! Neither of you have a body!" Mewtwo hollered.

"WHAT?!"

"I thought you weren't going to say 'what' anymore," he asked.

"I TAKE IT BACK! But what do you mean?!" Freya snapped.

Pikachu managed to struggle himself over to Freya and waved his paw through her stomach. Surely enough, it fazed right through, with a bit of fuzzy graphics ensuing from the spot like she was an interrupted hologram.

"Of course!" Caitlyn decreed. "That Announcer said we wouldn't have physical form! And this is how we'll command the smashers!"

"I understand!" Freya nodded, crossing her legs and nodding. "…GROUND!

"AAAAAAAAAAH!"

"AAARGH!"

"PIKAAAAAAAAAAA!"

**_WHUMP!_**

Mewtwo and Pikachu hit the ground very, very hard. The grass was crushed beneath them, indents were pushed into the soil, and earned bruises made themselves instantly visible. The girls, meanwhile, simply stopped; as if they were caught by something, they stopped falling at the ground and didn't leave a single mark upon the soil. Except Caitlyn was still upside-down and Freya was caught in her surprisingly Zen position.

A few seconds of recovery passed. A Koopa Troopa walked by, stopped at the sight of the four, and scribbled out a '7.3' sign to hold up.

"Hey, look at that, we got over a five at our panic attack," Freya noted idly.

"Lvly," Mewtwo muttered with his mouth stuffed in the grass.

"_Stage one, part one!" _the Announcer echoed across the landscape, bringing them back to their senses. "_Reach the Finishing Point! Seven minutes, now, so GO!"_

"Seven minutes?!" Freya gasped. "To clear THAT?!"

"_Get to it, kid!" _the Announcer answered.

Freya huffed, sending several strands of her hair out of her face. "Well, might as well get a move on. C'mon, Mewtwo, we can do this!"

"We can," he nodded before turning towards the course. "THEY can't."

Pikachu had wandered off and was currently sniffing at a trio of daisies. Caitlyn was hopelessly trying to get it back on track with calls such as "C'mon, Pikachu!", "Let's go now, Pikachu…", "Pikachu, we need to find the others," and just plain "Pikachu…! PIKACHU! _PIKACHUUU_!"

"…this gives me a great idea for a video game—"

"Focus."

"_Right_."

Mewtwo and Freya ran to the course, side-by-side, one levitating as the other ran at above her average speed. Pikachu turned in their direction, ears perked, and scampered after them; the frustrated Caitlyn followed.

It took a good deal of Goompa-stomping and Koopa-tossing to get through the place. Occasionally, one team or the other would encounter floating bricks begging to be jumped upon—at one point, Mewtwo pulled off a rather epic grab and twist on the edge of one, one that snapped his tail around in such a manner to knock out the gathered Koopa.

"Mewtwo!" Freya shouted. "Use one of the shells to knock out the Goompa line!"

Mewtwo sent a glance towards one of the shells, but charged forward anyway.

"_Mewtwo!" _she hollered in irritation. "Augh, darn cats!"

"Maybe he didn't hear you…?" Caitlyn offered, walking up to her sister as Pikachu slid fashionably into a shell stack and sent a good portion of projectiles towards the enemy.

"He heard me," Freya snorted. "He must of thought that he didn't need one."

"Or he saw that wall right there that they'd rebound off."

"WHAT?!"

Pikachu's shells smacked into the wall, making a cartoonish bonk as each of them hit; they rebounded towards Pikachu and Mewtwo with deadly speed.

Mewtwo instantly snapped his tail, sending him up to the platform the two girls had taken refuge upon. "You should trust me more often, Freya," he stated.

"Yea, yea," she groaned.

"Pikachu! Here, boy!" Caitlyn beckoned, patting her knees to encourage him.

Pikachu braced itself, its tail twitching in nervousness, before it leapt over the shells just as they approached. His back claw barely scraped the first one.

"YES!"

The mouse hit the edge of the platform and scrambled up to it, Caitlyn breathing a sigh of relief. "That was close…" she mumbled.

"…hey, why's it all quiet now?" Freya asked, turning about herself.

"The enemies have stopped attacking," Mewtwo noted.

"Announcer? How much time do we have left?"

"_About three minutes. Say, did I mention the Yoshis in this course?"_

"The _what_?" Caitlyn asked.

The two slanted platforms above them became the landing point for three Yoshi, colored green, light blue, and pink, respectively. The dinosaurs spotted their targets, on the grass-covered platform below marked with the symbol of Super Mario, and hunkered down in preparation to strike.

"…oh."

The Yoshi trio launched themselves at the Pokémon with a simultaneous cry of "Yoshiii!". Their targets responded instantly with their own attacks, starting a confusing brawl that the girls were helpless to prevent.

Mewtwo launched the pink Yoshi to the edge of the platform with a burst of Psychic energy, sending a Dark Pulse after it to get it to let go and plummet to the ground; then got tangled with the green one as it kicked his back. He swatted it with a Tail Whip and it yelped, clutching its wounded snout, before snapping out its tongue and sticking him.

Mewtwo's eyes widened and he struggled as it began pulling him in, bracing his feet against the ground and sending blast after blast of dark energy towards the Yoshi.

It shrugged them off and only seemed to pull harder; with one final tug, it wrapped up Mewtwo in its tongue and seemingly swallowed him whole.

"MEWTWO!" Freya cried.

Meanwhile, Pikachu was busy darting around the light blue Yoshi and a new, yellow-skinned one. It twisted and hopped from each lunge and tongue shot, putting electric attacks in is wake and occasionally calling down a mighty Thunderbolt. But alas, the Yoshi weren't complete duds; they eventually cornered the mouse between them.

"Pikachu! Jump!" Caitlyn ordered.

Pikachu sent a wary glance to the platform above it, looked to her, and shook its head firmly.

"Trust me! JUMP!" Caitlyn called.

Pikachu shrugged and leapt _through_ the platform as the two Yoshi lunged. The pair hit each other, each yelping "OW!" in pain, and stumbled back in a daze; the yellow Yoshi actually tripped off the platform and its partner dived after it, trying to rescue it but only winding up getting knocked out alongside it.

"YES!" Caitlyn cheered.

"NO!"

She turned to Freya's side of the issue, where the green Yoshi was about to spit her smasher over the edge of the platform. It was refraining from doing so, perhaps due to Freya's calls to her entrapped partner.

"Mewtwo, come on!" Freya screeched. "I need you to save my relatives, darn it, COME ON! I can't loose you! I NEED YOU! MEWTWO!"

"Pikachu, get the Yoshi!" Caitlyn yelped.

"Piii-kaaa-CHUUUUU!" Pikachu declared, ramming a mighty Headbutt into the Yoshi's back.

It coughed up Mewtwo, who could barely grasp the platform in his Yoshi-spit-covered state and was obviously discombobulated from being in a mouth for so long. Freya rushed over and kneeled nearby him, feeling helpless without a so-called 'physical form'.

"Auuuuuuh, man, I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "Now you're all gross and stuff because I didn't say anything ahead of time…"

"…I was never one for apologies," Mewtwo shrugged, suddenly looking tiered. "But I owe you. I didn't struggle enough, and you almost lost your chance at getting back the others."

"Wanna call it even?"

"Of course."

Without thinking about it, Freya grabbed Mewtwo's hand. A new light entered his eyes.

* * *

**WOW LOOK AT ALL THE WORDS ****_WOOOOOOOOOOOOOWW!_**

**The main reason this is so overdue is because I was at an extreme loss as to what on earth I was going to do to wrap up the Melee arch. I never played Melee, and I guess the reason I didn't have the same problem with the N64 arch was because I was too busy ****_showing you all my lovely characters _****and summarizing the start of Heirlooms. Stuff like that.**

**OH HAY, THANKS, LIGHT, FOR INDIRECTLY MOTIVATING ME TO DO THIS WITH PAST PMS I WAS LOOKING AT THE OTHER NIGHT! (We sent the weirdest things to each other, now that I look back on it. Ah well.)**

**_BONUS NERD POINTS _****to anyone who understood Freya's reference to a game where a Pikachu doesn't listen to you that well! …Pikachu! PIKACHU! PIKACHU! PIKACHU! PIKACHU! PIKACHU! It's fun to type. PIKACHUUUU -**

**WELL THEN. *Rubs hands together*. I have stuff to plot, you guys have Thanksgivings to get back to, and so I guess I'll keep writing so you can keep reading! Please hug an Eevee and stick around for the next chapter of ****_HEIRLOOOMMS!_**


End file.
